All Through the Night
by Bloodpage-Alchemist
Summary: Harry awakens transported back in time over 500 years. Hogwarts is still being built and, amid the bustle, Harry finds the warm, nurturing parental figure missing in his life, in none other than Rowena Ravenclaw. Will Harry ever go home? Will he want to?
1. Chapter 1

1.

Day three of "Aunt" Marge staying with them… and thirteen-year-old Harry James Potter was going insane. He kept keeping himself calm around her, but she would constantly find him, berate him… at times like this, he wished constantly that his parents had not died or that he had someone who cared about him.

Harry wanted to go to Hogsmeade with his friends, so he had been keeping a low profile, but it was when he was sitting on the steps outside when the door flew open and whacked him across the head, knocking off his glasses, making him see stars… everything whirled around him… and it was fading… fading into darkness….

**xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx**

"Shhh… the child doth waken," a woman's voice murmured gently, a cooling rag dabbed over Harry's head.

He slowly blinked, looking around. Four other people stood in the room, three peering at him interestedly. The fourth was the one who had spoken, the one who was caring for Harry. He couldn't help the soft groan that left his lips—his head still hurt—and he shut his eyes, not really taking in anything he had seen.

"We hath taken too much time tending for this boy already," a man's voice snarled. "He hath no use here—I say let him be on his way."

"He is but a child," the woman tending to Harry said softly, "and the denizens in the forest would devour him alive. Nay, good sir, I must disagree."

Harry could hear a harrumph and footsteps going away. "Doth any of mine fellows feel the same?"

"Nay, lady," another voice, this one a bit deeper than the other man's, said. "Thou hast never given any doubt of thy sound judgment—however, our friend hath a valid argument."

"I doth agree with the others," another woman said. "However, if thy doth insist upon keeping the child here, I daresay thine can remain and watch him—thou hast done much more than thine fair share in the creation of this school. We shall move him to thine quarters, where he shant be gawked at and where thy can care for him better."

Harry lost conscious once more at this point.

**xXx xXx xXx xXx xXx**

Twisting and turning, Harry suddenly opened his eyes and looked around, worried—he couldn't see. Where were his glasses? Everything was fuzzy…

"Childling?" the female voice that had tended him before was speaking. "Dost thou fare well?"

Harry forced himself to calm down and he looked towards the woman—he couldn't really see her too well. "I-I can't see…"

"Thou hast had quite a blow to the head," the woman said gently. "Lay back—this shant hurt."

Harry did as the woman had said, and he shut his eyes, feeling two fingers placed upon his eyelids. _"Ceil de render_," the woman murmured softly, causing Harry to sigh in relief—he had landed among wizards and witches. He felt a slight warming jolt run throughout his entire body, and a slight breeze through his head—yes, _through_ his head. It wasn't painful, though.

"How doth thou feel now?" the woman asked gently. Harry tentatively opened his eyes and blinked in surprise—wow. He could _see_. He felt his face—no glasses. He was… cured.

"I-is the spell permanent?" he asked, not daring to hope.

"Yes," the woman said softly. Harry turned to see her properly. She was slender, with long, wavy, light brown hair and light hazel blue eyes. She had a slight tan, wore blue-gray robes, and looked in her late twenties or so. "Does thou remember anything?"

"Er…" Harry trailed off—why was she speaking so funny?

The woman gave him a warm smile, "Tis all right, young one. I am Rowena Ravenclaw, and thou art in the academia of Hogwarts."

Harry took in a deep shuddering breath—Rowena _Ravenclaw?_ She was one of the four Founders!

"Ah, the boy hath awakened," a voice drawled, causing Harry and Rowena to turn.

A man, dressed in black robes, stood in the doorway. He was tall, pale, had hunter green eyes that seemed to bore right into Harry, and raven black hair. His style of speech reminded Harry heavily of Draco Malfoy's, and the snake draped around his waist and shoulder allowed Harry to instantly identify this man—Salazar Slytherin.

"He hath," Rowena said softly. "I am glad. However, I think he hath forgotten a few things… Child, doth thou not even remember thy name?"

"I-I am Harry," Harry said, not daring to speak his last name.

"Not even a surname. Ravenclaw, thou doth bring the strangest beings here…" Salazar eyed Harry, causing the boy to swallow and try to glare back, but Rowena stopped him with two gentle fingers on his shoulder.

"Salazar, thou doth place too much value upon blood and names. If I remember, t'was a maiden of non-magical lineage that did defeat thee in a fair duel. Watch thy tongue."

Salazar glared at her, "I did not try hard, Ravenclaw—thou art, after all, a woman."

"Make thyself useful, Salazar, and tell the others that Harry hath awoken," Rowena said, not taking the bait.

"Hmph." With this, Salazar swept out of the room and Harry let out a sigh of relief.

Rowena chuckled and Harry looked at her, "Thou hast nothing to fear from Salazar or his… pet. He doth not like strangers, tis all, and in this day… it is understandable. Tis an annoyance, however, when one is from a non-magical family…"

"Ah, so the boy hath awakened," a voice said, and the two looked. Salazar had an annoyed look upon his face. Harry knew these two newcomers had to be Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor.

Godric had curly brown hair and dark brown eyes, and he wore a crimson red cloak, crimson red tights, and a tunic of the same color. His sword was at his side, and Harry bit back a laugh—the hat upon his head must be the future Sorting Hat. Helga, on the other hand, was _very_ pretty, with blonde hair and green eyes, and she had a nice figure—she could easily attract a man to her. Harry had never thought she would be so… pretty—he had always pictured someone who looked like Sprout being Helga Hufflepuff. She looked nothing like Rowena, who was sitting, watching Harry with warm caring eyes.

"What shall be done with the boy?" Salazar demanded immediately.

"I shall not let him outside, Salazar. He is a wizard, therefore he doth belong at Hogwarts!" Rowena said this angrily, standing up to face the man.

Godric and Helga shared looks, and Harry winced.

"That boy hath no place here, Ravenclaw. Then again… thou hath a special place for beings that doth not belong in this world, doth ye not?" Salazar sneered at her, and Harry was immediately indignant on Rowena's behalf. The woman said nothing—she merely shook her head—and Harry erupted.

"How—y—thou—thou art—a most foul—and despicable person!"

"Ah, so the boy doth have the ability to speak," Salazar said, turning to face him. _/Scales, inspect him./_

Harry's eyes widened—the snake. _/I don't think so./_ This was said to the snake as it was about to leave Salazar's side.

The four people in the room gaped at Harry in surprise, until Rowena smiled and glanced back at Salazar, "Does thou think that Harry hath no place here now?"

"Miserable wench," Salazar hissed, glaring at her. "Thy filthy Mudblood."

"TAKE THAT BACK!" Godric roared, standing and pulling out his sword. "I doth challenge thee—!"

"Godric," Rowena murmured softly, "Tis enough."

Helga glared at Salazar, stood and abruptly left. Godric looked back and forth, and, at Rowena's indication, followed Helga.

"Please leave my chambers, Salazar—thou hath done quite enough."

"Obviously not," Salazar purred softly, "since thy still deem it necessary to be here… but I shall take my leave for now. Boy… watch the company thy keep—trash doth leave its scent everywhere."

Harry glared at Salazar, "I noticed," he said coldly, causing Salazar to narrow his eyes in a glare and leave from the room.

"How… how… doth… thou… put up with him?" Harry asked, stumbling over the old-fashioned words.

Rowena sighed, "Salazar hath lost much to non-magical beings and 'tis a known fact that I am descended from such a family line."

Harry thought about it for a few seconds then realized what she had said. Rowena Ravenclaw… was a Muggleborn.

"He is not the only one who hath loved and lost, though," Rowena whispered quietly. "I too hath lost many to those of pure ancestry; therefore, we two cannot be on equal ground."

Harry nodded, and Rowena smiled at him, "Sleep well, young one."

"I… I can't," Harry said, quietly, honest. How could he, with everything whirling around in his head—how was he going to get home?

Rowena gently raked back his hair and Harry laid down again. "Angels watching, e'er around thee," she murmured, her voice a soft lilt, causing Harry's eyes to close, "All through the night, midnight slumber close surround thee..."

Harry couldn't remember ever hearing a lullaby, and as much as he wanted to hear the end of it, Rowena's soft singing had lulled him right to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:  
Salutations to all! Thank you to all of those who read, and an even BIGGER thank you to those that reviewed! Now… for my answers to your questions and comments… :-)  
1. Hogwarts was most likely made roughly 1000 years ago. Notice my description said _over_ 500. I just wanted to make sure my years were correct, so I stuck with 500 just to be positive.  
2. Um… I hope you guys read the summary… Harry will not end up with Rowena romantically. It's a parental-child, discovery tale, if that makes any sense. Harry will learn new things, but I'm not going to make him super powered or anything.  
3. The "ye olde English," that both SSJ Girl (is that SSJ short for "Super Sayian-jin," by the way? Just a question, and I most likely misspelled the title, if it is. Let me know, if you don't mind) and Shinku Naito brought up is not exactly proper. If anything it's _not proper enough_, lol. I'm making it much easier so that everyone can follow it pretty easily. Now… as for imagining _how_ I'm writing in it… I'm an English major… and I happen to enjoy Shakespeare. Having done a few of the pieces myself, you do get used to it… so it's not as hard as you think, especially since I'm toning it down a _lot_. Both of you, thank you for your reviews. :-)  
Enjoy chapter two. And, harrison potter, Silver Vampire of the Shadows, damon blade, and Rainbow Phoenix… thank you all for your wonderful compliments, and I really hope that you like this chapter as well.  
—One last thing… I'm truly sorry if the style of speech annoys you… but it, at least to me, makes it more authentic, and I really would prefer _not_ to change it. If enough people do not like it, however, I will, begrudgingly, put it into modern English. Also, I'm updating this chapter much faster than I usually do; I tend to update once a week, so this is just a little treat (if you like the story. If not, then I suppose it isn't, lol)**

2.

Harry woke up and looked around—he was in a simple, light blue room. It looked different in the sunlight. Where was Rowena? He stood up and checked the door—it was unlocked. He walked around, recognizing the corridor quickly—he was near the library.

"Oh joy—the boy is wandering," Salazar's voice drawled softly, causing Harry to turn and face him. "I suppose thou art looking for Ravenclaw?"

"I am," Harry said, narrowing his eyes.

"She would be in the kitchens. Come." Salazar led the way, taking all of the shortcuts that Harry would have. "The others would like for thee to stay—I was, of course, outnumbered… so thine shall be staying here with Ravenclaw… but I shall be keeping a close eye upon thee, boy."

Harry said nothing, choosing to glare at Salazar instead. Soon, they reached the kitchens.

"Thy boy hath risen, Ravenclaw."

"I thank thee, Salazar," Rowena said softly, and Harry smiled at seeing her. "Come child—I know thy must be hungry."

Harry nodded and sat next to Rowena who wore light gray robes. Salazar stared at her for a few moments then left the kitchens, muttering about "not wanting to catch the filth in the air."

"What the bloody hell is his problem?" Harry demanded angrily.

Rowena chuckled, "Thy need not concern thyself, young one. Where doest thou hail from?"

"Er… a long way from here," Harry said, everything rushing back at once. How was he going to get home?

"Thou were murmuring much in thine dreams," Rowena said softly, "about work thy needed to complete. Mayhap we can assist thee?"

Harry's eyes lit up—he would get help on his homework from the _Founders of Hogwarts_. He would love to see Snape complain about his work then.

"I see that thine is pleased," Rowena said softly, making Harry nod and smile. "Very well. I shall return soon." With this, she left the kitchens. Soon, Godric entered.

"Good morrow, lad," he said, smiling.

"G-good morrow, sir," Harry replied.

"Rowena hast told me that thou wish to be taught."

"Y-yes sir, if t-thy wishes to teach me."

Godric smiled, "Thou think that we are like Salazar. My friend holds old beliefs fast, but he shall accept thee readily."

"Why doesn't he accept Rowena?"

With a soft sigh, Godric shrugged, "I know not why, lad. It hath taken long for Helga to accept that Rowena hath no bad intentions. I am sure he shall come around as well—or rather, I hope that he doth. Both could accomplish much, were they to work together instead of apart."

Harry nodded, not saying anything as Helga entered the room. He followed the two adults, amused by Godric's repeated attempts at flirting, and stopped, hearing shouts from nearby. Godric turned and gently led him away, "That would be Salazar and Rowena, lad. Thy doth not wish to involve thyself in such affairs."

"…Yes… of course," muttered Harry, following the two adults and hoping Rowena was okay. But she was the smart one, right? She could take care of herself… couldn't she?

"Now," Godric said, smiling as they reached the grassy outside of the mostly completed school, "thou should learn the disarming spell."

"…I haven't… I do not have my wand…" Harry said quietly.

Helga and Godric shared a look, then Helga said, "Thou shall learn it wandlessly, then. The incantation is _Expelliarmus_."

"_Expelliarmus," _Harry repeated, remembering the charm from the Dueling Club. Nothing happened, of course.

With a chuckle, Godric said, "Thou must hath focus, young one, if thy wishes to perform wandless or wordless magic."

Harry spent the day outside with the two, coming back inside. Salazar stood there, glaring at the three. "I suppose ye both decided to teach the boy something after all?"

"We did," Godric replied, "Rowena hath sound reasoning, Salazar."

Salazar rolled his eyes, "Thou only listen to her because thou art a womanizer. Pardon me." With this, the man swept by, ignoring Godric's shouts of "I AM NOT A WOMANIZER!"

"Salazar," called Helga, causing the man to stop. "Rowena doth hath sound judgment. This boy hath potential to be great, with proper training."

"And Ravenclaw teaches not?"

"Because Ravenclaw was busy helping at Hogsmeade," a voice said from behind everyone, making Harry turn with a grin—there was Rowena. "Something that was thy task, Salazar, and that thy happened to forget."

"Yes, I spoke with a Mudblood," Salazar sneered.

"I challenge thee to a duel!" Harry and Godric shouted simultaneously, Harry's eyes widening as Salazar whirled to face him.

"Very well, boy—I accept."

"Thou doth not," Rowena replied, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry is under _my_ guidance, Salazar—if thy wishes to duel with him, thy art challenging me. And thy should remember our last duel quite well."

Salazar narrowed his eyes and the two stared at each other for a bit, Harry, Helga, and Godric watching with bated breath. Finally, Salazar turned and left without a word, and Rowena shook her head and went up to her chambers. Harry, without thinking, took two steps after her and stopped and glanced back at Godric and Helga.

"Go on, lad. She shall need thee shortly," Godric said. Harry nodded and ran after Rowena.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Rowena moved really fast or knew shortcuts that Harry did not, because he ended up running to her rooms. She was there, staring out of the window.

"Fractions. The man doth cause fractions! Were it not for the fact it would happen, I would wish a plague upon him!"

Harry coughed, to let the woman know he was there, and she turned, irritation obvious on her face, until she saw it was Harry then she said, "Ah, Childling… I apologize. I thought that thee may have been Salazar. How was thy day?"

Harry smiled and, choosing not to say anything about her argument with Salazar, said, "It… It was… interesting. Godric and Helga were attempting to teach me wandless magic, and I… I wasn't too successful."

"Thy must learn control." Rowena thought about it for a few moments, then said, "Hath thy never learned without a wand?"

"I… um… well…" Harry trailed off, unsure of what to say or do. "Er…"

"Harry." Rowena looked at the boy, a small smile on her face. "I found thee when thee in the forest. Thy hath much to hide, I am sure. But thy should never be ashamed of not knowing something as intricate as wandless magicks."

"The way they made it sound… it was like I should know it." Harry sighed, and looked back at her. "I… I don't know how to do it."

"I shall teach thee, then. It is nightfall, however, and thy must be hungry. Come—let us go to the kitchens. After that, I shall show thee the tower that Helga and I are working upon."

"How many of you are working on the school?" Harry asked then realized the manner of speech. Uh-oh.

"...What dost thou mean?" Rowena stared at Harry, confused.

"...Um..." Oh boy. "Art... many... people... working... upon... this... school... eth?"

Rowena, after thinking for a few moments, said, "Dost thou mean how many beings doth work upon this academia?"

"Yeah! Sure... that'll work." Harry shook his head--he was going to have a hard time pulling this off if he kept slipping up. What if he messed up history? What if he already had?

That was a frightening thought. What if... Harry shook his head--what was he supposed to do? He didn't know anything about this! He just wanted to go home... sure, the Dursleys made him miserable, but he at least knew what to expect. Or even if Ron, or Hermione were with him... Ron was from a wizarding family, he'd know how to get home... or Hermione, she was smart, she could figure out a way home... but him...

Would anyone notice he was even missing? Harry shut his eyes, miserable. For the umpteenth time, he wished he were not so alone... that his parents hadn't died...

"Youngling?" Rowena placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know thy must miss thine home. Doth thy miss thy family?"

Her simple question made something in Harry break--he didn't know how she knew. She thought that he missed his family, but her concern jumped years, generations, to a time that she knew nothing of... Harry began to cry, huge sobs that made Rowena stare at him.

Harry hadn't cried in years, and the few times he had, it had been nothing like this. These were cutting sobs, ones that made him hurt. Years of pain, physical and emotional, and Harry had not cried; he had regrown his bones last year and he hadn't cried! How had she _known_?

"There..." she held him close, the way Harry always imagined a mother holding him, and Harry just cried for a long time into her shoulder. Rowena never pulled away, never glared in disgust or anger; she just rubbed his back comfortingly, whispering soft condolences into his ear.

After awhile, Harry felt sick and he stumbled into the latrine, which was pretty much identical to the bathrooms of his time, and threw up then he went back to Rowena, unsure of how to explain his outburst.

She didn't even ask. All she did was mop up his face with a handkerchief, making Harry smile weakly. Slowly, the boy said, "My family... I'm... I'm an orphan. A dark wizard killed my parents when I was a baby."

"Oh child..." Rowena whispered softly, the sympathy evident in her eyes.

"...It wasn't their fault, he just hated... non-magical lineages... and my mum..." Harry trailed off, wondering—why _had_ Voldemort killed his parents all those years ago? Perhaps Dumbledore would know... if Harry ever got back home, he'd ask...

"I lost my family as well," Rowena said quietly, causing Harry to look at her. "On a raid in my village... the pure lineage of wizards decided that the non-magical beings of Palethorpe... were unworthy of existence."

"Oh... Rowena... I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, feeling suddenly cold—how could he cry when she had lost everyone?

"Thy loss was the greater. I was already far removed from the village due to being the wise woman." Rowena chuckled and shook her head, "Thy family loved thee. Mine..." she trailed off and gave him a slight shrug with a small smile. "'Tis a sad time, young one... I doth hope that one day... non-magical and magical beings... shall not hath the same struggle... that we do."

Harry nodded, not daring to speak about Voldemort... Rowena's vision, even in his time, would never be fulfilled. The Slytherins would see to that...

"Thy wished to learn the art of wandless magicks. I can help thee... but I am far better at the silent magicks."

"Silent... magicks?" Harry stared at Rowena, a bit lost.

"Without speaking, child... without speaking." To prove her point, Rowena held out her hand and a book flew into it. "If thy can learn to cast without speaking or without a wand... then thy shall become a most formidable opponent in duels."

Harry slowly nodded, then said, "Can y--will thy teach me?"

"But of course, youngling." Rowena smiled, then said, "However, as I stated before, thy must be famished. Come. Let us eat, drink, and observe our work. The time of training doth end."

Harry smiled and followed Rowena to the kitchens. The kitchens, though huge, were empty. "We doth need to find workers for the kitchens. I shall prepare our supper for tonight. Thy shall make it when the morrow arrives, however. Doth thy hath any complaints?"

"Uh... nay?" Harry said, hoping that was the correct word. Rowena smiled and began to cook, leaving Harry to sit and marvel at the fact that, for once, someone was cooking for him... not because he was a student, or staying at their house... but because she wanted to. He watched her and smiled, then slowly turned, feeling a slight chill run up his spine.

Salazar was standing in the doorway, staring at the two of them, an emotionless look on his face. He saw Harry look at him, and he suddenly sneered.

"Salazar, if thy hath no problem eating what a Mudblood hath prepared, thy art more than welcome to join." Rowena turned to face the wizard, making him turn to her.

"Hmph. Thy know well that thy art the only one who can properly prepare food… as pathetic as that may be." Salazar sat next to Harry and the two watched the woman cook, neither speaking to the other. Soon, dinner was ready, and the three ate, remaining silent.

"Ravenclaw." Salazar said suddenly, standing after his meal. "'Tis my payment for the meal… beware of the bumblebee. It comes for the progeny of a flower. Remember this."

"…Hast thou hath one of thine visions, Salazar?" Rowena was staring at the man, and Harry didn't understand it. Was Rowena allergic to bees? Did they even have allergies in this time? And what did she mean, visions? Was Salazar a fortune teller?

"Visions?" Harry inquired, staring at Salazar. "Are—art… thou… a… um… fortune teller?"

"Tis none of thy concern." With this, the pureblooded wizard swept out of the room, his robes billowing in a way that reminded Harry of Snape. Rowena and Harry shared looks and shook their heads then Rowena smiled.

"Come, youngling. I would enjoy showing thee our tower. It shall hath the most height, and it shall allow students to see the stars."

The Astronomy Tower of his time. Harry felt a sudden ache of longing—he wanted to go home… "Of course…" he smiled weakly, "I… I'd like that."

"After that, we shall rest and, when the lights of morrow arrive, I shall train thee in the various magicks." Rowena smiled and led the way to the still being built tower. Harry followed, still thinking about Salazar's warning and wondering if he would ever get home.

**Author's Note:**

**Greetings once more, everyone. Once more, I'd like to thank everyone who's reading this :-) _and_ I'll like to thank everyone who reviewed even more! Thank you so much! Now… onto the comments and questions!**

**1. The question raised by Alix33 about Harry losing his wand—and by the way, you're not dim for asking; I'll bet some people were wondering and didn't ask, lol—is… well… he never had it. This story takes place during the summer before third year, when his "Aunt Marge" was visiting. The Dursleys could still his stuff in the cupboard under the stairs. And even if Harry _did_ take out his stuff, he wouldn't go outside in a Muggle neighborhood, especially after the warning from the Ministry in his second year, with the wand. Marge made him snap in the original book; he didn't do that here. Um… I hope this answers the question, lol. Thanks for asking.  
2. How did I know… sighs _This is not going to be a romance between Rowena and Harry!_ My reasoning for this is because (a) I cannot write the whole romantic element, I just don't feel comfortable doing so and (b) it's more like a parent-child relationship. I do believe the summary said as much, and so did the last author's note. I apologize if, at some point, you expected that, but it was never going to be one.  
3. I think I touched up on the descriptions in the speech in this chapter a bit. I'm normal pretty vague in person… go figure it's reflected in my writing, lol. Um… let me know if it's any better this time, please? Thanks!  
4. I usually update once a week—sorry, Android181 :-) Having school, work, and trying to juggle a social life while doing so… chuckles I do my best. The once-a-week updating allows me to think about what I type, as well as read the reviews. **

— **I think that about covers it for questions and comments…. However…  
daman blade, Silver Vampire of the Shadows, and SSJ Girl (Oops, lol. At least you knew what I was talking about :-D)… thank you for reviewing not once, but _twice!_ I truly love you! Well… I love all reviewers, but you guys did it more, so… grins I truly do appreciate it, and thanks.  
Lana Luan, Black Phoenix Dark Justice, lovly elley, FK306 animelover, Just Me Prime, Phoenix-Of-Hogwarts, momocolady, ME, Unnamed Sorcerer, Romulus Magnus, Alix33, and Android 181… thanks for reviewing chapter 2!**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and you'll let me know :-) Until next time… Ciao! **


	4. Chapter 4

4.

The tower wasn't as tall as it was in his time, nor did it have a ceiling, but Harry still liked the view of the starry, beautiful night. Curfew forbade students to be at the tower at night in his time, and the last time he had been out that late, on a tower, had been two years ago, when he and Hermione had brought Norbert the dragon to Ron's older brother.

Harry smiled, thinking about his first year. He hadn't thought about Norbert in a long time. At the time, it had seemed so dangerous, he had been so worried and concerned… but now, he wanted to laugh, thinking about it. Only Hagrid would consider a dragon to be a good pet.

He glanced at Rowena, who was looking towards the north, her eyes showing that she was lost in thought.

"I see I am not the only one who enjoys the view from atop the tower," a voice said from behind them, making both Harry and Rowena turn.

"Hallo Godric. Thy should be slumbering." Rowena gave the man a disapproving look, and Harry couldn't help but grin at the puppy-like look Godric gave her.

"Just for this night, milady. Salazar hath gone to his chambers, as hath Helga, and I could not slumber peacefully." Godric walked next to Rowena, then said, "Doth thy remember when we first met?"

"Aye," Rowena smiled, remembering, and she looked at Harry, who was interested in hearing the tale. "His cap was lost in the wind, and it landed atop my own head. He challenged me to a duel immediately, then, upon seeing I was female—"

"The boy doth not need to know the next part," Godric said, blushing and looking at Harry.

Rowena chuckled and said, ignoring Godric, "Upon seeing that, he attempted to woo me into bed."

Harry started laughing; Salazar was right—Godric _was_ a womanizer.

"Of course, she did not accept," Godric muttered, his voice sullen, which made Harry laugh even harder, and it made the man and woman stare at him. Slowly, Godric smiled, then said, "Tis good to hear thee laugh, lad. Milady, child, I am off. G'night."

"G'night, Godric," both Harry and Rowena said. Soon, they were alone once more. Silence prevailed for a few more moments before Rowena spoke.

"Where art thou from, young one?"

"Um… a long way away." That would have to do for now.

"And how did thy end up in the forest?"

"I don't know… my magic, I guess." Harry answered this truthfully.

Rowena paused, looking up at the sky, then said, with a smile, "I too am going to slumber."

Harry nodded and followed Rowena to her chambers, but he couldn't sleep. Salazar's words kept running through his head. What did they mean?

"Rest, Harry," Rowena chided, making Harry sit up and look at her.

"Rowena," he said his voice showing his anxiety, "what did Salazar mean?"

Rowena paused, her face eerie in the flickering firelight of the candle that she held, and, after a bit, she said, "I know not, young one, but when the need arises, we shall discover the meaning. Now rest."

"Okay." Harry didn't think he'd be able to sleep but, to his surprise, he was unconscious the moment his head touched the pillow, undisturbed until the rays of sunshine awoke him. Harry groaned and looked around, still not believing that he wasn't at the Dursleys.

It hit him at that moment—he had been fine until then. But… he was _in the Founders' time era._ How was he going to get home? Harry stared at the ceiling for a bit, lost in thought, until Rowena's voice interrupted.

"Hallo, child." She had a curious look on her face.

"Hello," Harry said, smiling at her—she had clothes put out for him. "What's wrong?"

"Who… whom art these Dursleys that thy spoke of?"

Harry sat upright, staring at her with wide eyes—had he said something about them? Rowena smiled, then said, "Thy speak in thine sleep, Harry."

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say to that, and he looked down, silent.

Rowena sat by his bed, then said, "Child, I know not why thou art here, nor do I know where ye desires to go. Speak to me, Harry, tell me these things—mayhap I can help thee."

"I can't," Harry whispered, "I… I'll mess up everything…" Harry sighed and looked at Rowena's earnest face

"Thy needn't worry, then. When thy feel the time is right, I shall always be willing to listen. Come—let us eat our morning meal and work upon thy magick." With this, she smiled, gave Harry a gentle kiss on the forehead, and left the room, leaving the boy touching the place where she had kissed him. He didn't know what to say or do—he had never had such affection from an adult… well, Mrs. Weasley, but she mollycoddled everyone.

Harry got up, took a bath, and soon met Rowena outside, where she was considering something thoughtfully.

"Mayhap it would be easier to get from area to area if the stairs changed? Harry, what doth thy think?" Rowena asked, looking at him.

Harry thought about it, then realized something—it must have been Rowena who made the stairs move. If he could learn to do things like that, his Charms and Transfiguration classes would be a piece of cake! "I think that's a good idea, Rowena. I can help, right?"

"Aye," Rowena smiled, then her face darkened, "and perchance there would be a way to find what Salazar hath been doing in the lower bowels of the castle…"

_The Chamber of Secrets_. Harry narrowed his eyes—oh, he knew what the stupid man was up to. But how could he tell anyone? If he did, it'd mess up history… Harry stopped, thinking.

He'd stop Voldemort from setting the basilisk on people. Hagrid wouldn't be expelled. How could that be wrong? Even if it was toying with history, it wasn't like the past was set in stone, right? Why was he here—wouldn't that mess up history since he was from the future? Harry's mind reeled with the thought, and he forced himself to stop thinking about it.

Rowena was still speaking, "Godric hath been attempting to find out what Salazar hath been doing, but to no avail. Mayhaps we shall be the ones luck blesses."

Harry smiled, a bit saddened; Rowena wouldn't want to know what Salazar was up to. "Of course. But… if Salazar's doing things to the castle… are all of you—art… thee and… er… thy friends… doing… likewise?"

Rowena smiled, remaining silent for a bit, then said, "I said I would show thee wandless and wordless spells. We shalt practice summoning objects. For now, we shall only do so wandlessly. Later, we shalt practice it without speaking. The incantation is _Accio_."

"Accio." Harry nodded, knowing that she had just avoided answering his question, and began to practice on the various rocks and pebbles. The morning passed quickly, and Harry quickly saw that Rowena was better than Helga or Godric when it came to helping him learn spells, because he had managed to make the items zoom into his hand.

"Most excellent, Harry. Come, let us eat—I know thy must be hungry." Rowena smiled and Harry grinned gratefully, following her inside. It was when they reached the kitchens, though, that both of their jaws dropped.

The kitchen was _gone_. Only a gaping hole remained. "W-wh-what…" Harry didn't understand—what had happened? He risked a glance at Rowena, who was doubled over laughing.

"Helga, Helga… thy know better!" Rowena said, standing up and wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

Harry looked back at the former kitchen, and he could see Helga standing there now, all covered in soot and dust, and he couldn't help but smile. "Are you—art thou… okay?"

"I am fine," Helga said, her tone unruffled. "I hath not been taught how to cook."

"Harry, doth thy know how?" Rowena asked, glancing at Harry.

"A-a bit," Harry said, stammering. He _had_ cooked for his relatives, but he had never cooked over a wood-stove or a fire like Rowena had done.

"Excellent. Thy shall assist Helga whilst I repair the area." With this, Rowena gave Harry a slight push in Helga's direction and she began to use cleaning and repairing charms on the surrounding area. Harry swallowed nervously—Helga was staring right at him expectantly.

"W-well…" Harry looked around nervously—he didn't recognize some of the devices. "D-do we have—hath—pots and pans?"

Helga just stared at him, and Rowena was too busy to hear him. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Helga said, "Transfigure the items, lad, into whatever tool thy need."

Oh boy. Harry swallowed—he couldn't even transform a button into a needle properly! How was he supposed to make culinary items out of things?

"What is wrong?" Rowena called over.

"Thy boy knows nothing of transfiguration!" Helga replied, staring at Harry.

"Then _teach him_." Rowena's tone dripped sarcasm, and Harry bit back a laugh. Helga sighed.

"Well… most… the object… cannot… be larger… than the item thy desires to turn it to. There art exceptions to this, but…" Helga looked at Rowena balefully, causing her to turn.

"Helga. Doth thy not wish to teach?"

"Of course, but I cannot just suddenly—" Helga began hotly.

"Listen to me, my friend." Rowena had come over, and she looked at Harry, "Thy as well, childling. Thy shalt be put into situations thy doth not wish for. However, if thy just curl away every time something new or unexpected comes… then thee shall be destroyed. Thy hath to be prepared… thy hath to always keep moving…" Rowena paused for a few seconds, then said, "That is how thy should face life… and that is how thy should teach thy class, regardless of who the pupil is and what the topic."

Helga and Harry stayed silent, Harry absorbing the speech and Helga looking at her friend thoughtfully. "How thine art so wise still doth amaze me, Rowena… but thy art correct. Harry."

"Y-yes?" Harry asked, looking at her. Helga had a look of resolve on her face, and Harry wondered what Rowena had just gotten him into.

"There art many objects here that thy can use for transfiguration." With this, Helga launched into helping Harry learn how to transfigure the tools in the kitchen into utensils that he could use. Harry, meanwhile, was wondering: how did they turn _everything_ into a learning experience? The teachers in his time didn't…

After a bit, Harry finally got the gist of transfiguring things. He made a pot and frying pan, and then he set about making a stew. Rowena had fixed up most of the kitchen by the time he was finished, and, after he and Helga began to help her, the kitchen was restored. Soon, the three were sitting, eating, laughing and talking. Harry had begun to tell them about Dudley, finding it odd that he could look at his experiences at the Dursleys and _laugh_ about it.

"Tis _impossible_!" Helga said, laughing. "None can be that large!"

"I assure thee that tis true," Harry said, grinning, "and his idiocy is as large as his girth."

"Oh Harry," Rowena said, smiling, "thou art much underappreciated. Truthfully…"

"Well, we cannot let you return to that," Helga said, smiling and clapping her hands. "I daresay we can make thee a chamber. Thy shalt remain here."

Harry's heart filled, and he spoke, touched by the words, "Honestly? I can stay here?"

"Of course. Godric cares not. Only Salazar poses a factor…" Rowena's face looked as though she had tasted something unpleasant, and Helga chuckled.

"I shall speak with him, Rowena. Thy need not worry." Helga stood and looked at Harry, "Thank ye for the meal, young one. Thy hath made excellent progress in thy work for such a short time. I am proud to call thee my pupil." With this, and leaving Harry with a warm, happy feeling enveloping him, Helga left.

Rowena smiled, "Come, child. We must practice thy spellwork, no matter how much Helga thinks thy hath improved. Then we shall begin to make thee a chamber." With this, the two left the kitchen and went to continue lessons for part of the afternoon. However, when they were returning back to the castle…

"_How dare thee make a decision without my say! That boy hath no place here!"_

"Salazar," both Harry and Rowena said. They looked at each other and grinned, then they went inside to deal with the problem.

"Salazar—" Godric was trying to placate the other man, but Salazar was having none of it.

"_Thy know not what this boy brings!" _Salazar whirled to face Harry. "But I know, _boy_. I know that thy bring ruin and division wherever thy go…" Salazar's voice had gone soft, threatening, and he jabbed Harry sharply in the chest, about to say something else….

Then Harry heard a sharp crack and saw Salazar scream in pain as he yanked his hand away from Harry. Rowena had broken Salazar's wrist, and she glared menacingly at Salazar while moving in front of Harry. "I care not what thy hath to say about myself, Salazar, but when thy insult and threaten my student I shall not stand for it. Explain thy actions."

"I need not explain myself to a mud—"

"Say thy insult to one who cares," Rowena growled. "_Explain_."

Salazar stared at her for a few seconds, then he looked at Harry and back at Rowena. Softly, he spoke, "He shall destroy us, Ravenclaw."

"_I said explain_." Rowena's voice left no room for argument, and Harry risked a look at Godric, who looked as though he had no idea what to do.

"Pardon me… there is someone that wishes to see thee, Salazar. Should I tell him to wait?" Helga looked around at everyone uncertainly.

Salazar and Rowena shot each other death glares, and Salazar swept away, cloak billowing. "This is not over, Ravenclaw. I shall make sure of it." With this, he was gone, and Harry was left with his heart pounding.

What if Salazar was right? What if his presence caused something horrible to happen? He cared for Rowena, even though he had only known her a short time. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. He refused. No. Harry knew what he had to do: he had to leave that night.

**Author's Note:**

**Salutations to all! I know I haven't updated in two weeks, but here's a nice long chapter for all of you. It's five pages long, you know. However, just a bit of warning—Kingdom Hearts 2 is coming out on the 28th, and I'm a bit of an RPG addict…so you might have to wait a bit. I'll try and pry myself away, but between work and school and game, it'll be mighty hard. So just be patient!**

**Now. Onto _my_ responses to critiques, questions and comments. And if I seem a bit irritated with some of my answers… I most likely am. Sorry—I'm not snapping at anyone in particular. **

**For the FINAL time, this will _NOT BE A ROMANCE BETWEEN ROWENA AND HARRY! _Please, no more e-mails or reviews about it! Please! That said, let's continue.**

**Okay. Here goes, yet _again_, my reason WHY it's not PUT INTO PROPER OLD ENGLISH. I have toned down the entire style of speech to make it EASIER TO FOLLOW. So, any more complaints about how "it's not authentic" are going to be posed this question.  
In the ages of yore, there is a period called the "Dark Ages." Now, that would be roughly the time of Hogwarts. _Bearing this in mind_, would you like to know the language that "civilized" people such as Salazar and Rowena and the others would be speaking? _LATIN!_ The Old English came about a bit before Shakespearean times, _and _if they didn't speak Latin, they spoke Gaelic or something _extremely _similar to it! You want this to be "authentic" or for me to show that "I know what I'm doing?" I'll e-mail you the Latin version and then we can bloody chat! _Please stop e-mailing me with comments about this!_ I offered, if enough people complained—and _no_, 32 e-mails _from the same four people do NOT count as "enough people"_—to switch it to modern! I'm on chapter FOUR! You should've complained EARLIER!**

**Alix33—Harry cooks a bit in this chapter, as I'm sure you read :O) And I happen to like Salazar, but he's just too much of a prick in the books for me to ignore that fact in this story. See, regardless of what people may think, I _try_ to be _authentic_. Thanks for your comment and suggestion!_  
_ERMonkey Burner of Cookies: Thanks!_  
_Susan—I'll be getting to the scar shortly :O)Look for the next chapter.  
Aqua Mage, ebonyquill, Nameless Heretic, Prd2bAmerican18, Queen Selene I, and Puck Silverbreeze (nice name. Ever read A Midsummer Night's Dream willingly?): _Albus _Dumbledore coming for Harry. Hm. Interesting… very interesting… But who said Harry was the only progeny of a flower in the castle? And what makes you think it's _Albus? _;o) That's all I'm saying about Salazar's vision**.**_  
_damon blade! Hello, hello! I am extremely sorry I didn't answer! I grovel, I beg, I plead for thine tender gift of forgiveness! To answer the question, Salazar's more like that cousin you just want to _kill_ but you can't because your parents will beat you, lol. If I do it right, Godric will be more like a brother to Harry (b/c he _is_ a Gryffindor), Helga more like the comic aunt, and Rowena is going to be the mentor-parental figure. Andthanks for the compliment:O)**

**Oh boy… too many reviews telling me how awesome and different and promising this is… Um…. Thank you all, for your lovely words and please do so again!**

**Okay, that's it. Ciao, until next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

**Alrighty, I have returned. I'm sorry for my long (excruciatingly long) absence. I have found that excuses are stupid, in the score of years I've been alive (bonus points and recognition for those who know how long a score of years is, lol), and generally unasked for. I didn't update—for that I apologize. However, I'm here now, so let's get to it after a short… announcement.**

**I've been debating about _how_ to return Harry to his time (by the way, his arrival in this time will be explained either in this chapter or in the next one). I won't tell you about the scenarios, but I willlet you know this—I'm not into really long stories. Personally, I'm an average writer (if that) and writing long stories… I tend to get tired of writing after a certain point. BUT… if I ever get disillusioned with a story, I won't just leave it on the net—I _do _delete it. _However_, unless the story is popular with a lot of people, I do this without warning. I don't know how I define "popular," to be honest. I guess it ranges with the category. But this story has almost 70 reviews… so I guess it's kinda popular… I don't really know…**

**I'd love to acknowledge my reviews, like I usually do, but you guys have waited long enough for this chapter. All I can say is THANK YOU for your reviews—thank you, thank you, thank you! Please keep it up! (And keep them long! I love long reviews!)**

**Ciao!**

5.

Harry followed Rowena up the stairs, thinking about what he would need after he left. His wand, of course, and some clothes… some food…

"Harry, child, would this be fine?" Rowena inquired, indicating a room on the second floor. Harry looked at the room and nodded, not really caring—after all, he was leaving tonight. He wouldn't have time to enjoy this room.

"Yes, Rowena—this will be fine," Harry said quietly, looking back at her as he spoke.

She stared at him for a few seconds, not breaking eye contact and making Harry feel a bit uncomfortable, then, softly, said, "Harry, thy should not allow the acrimony between Salazar and myself to force thy hand."

"H-How…" Harry began, unsure of what to say. How had she _known_?

"That is why thee should remain here, child—thou hath much to learn. I shall… speak with Salazar. I did not mean to make thee uncomfortable, childling—I doth apologize."

"But… how… wait… are you—art thou… sure that… y—thou should speak with Salazar? And why does—doth he hate yo—thee so much?"

"He doth not like beings…" Rowena trailed off, then said, "Salazar and I... We hath too much… The times of the yesteryear affects both of us, even to this day. Let us just say… that we hath a past, Salazar and I. And yes, child, I am sure that Salazar and I should speak."

"But… what could be so bad…" Harry trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Okay…."

"Harry, child, there are creatures in the forest that thy would do well to steer clear of until thy art more versed in the art of magic. Helga and Godric go into the forest often—they shall teach thee how to survive in the forest, and I shall teach thee thy spells." The woman smiled at him, and Harry couldn't help but smile at her.

After a few seconds, he said, "So, are we going to see my room?"

"Ah, of course," Rowena said, smiling back at him. The two started to go into the room when they were interrupted.

"_Ravenclaw!_" A voice snapped, causing both of them to turn. Salazar stood there, eyes narrowed, his wrist at an odd angle.

"Rowena, I tried to—" Helga began, rushing up behind him, a worried expression on her face.

"Tis no trouble, Helga. Help Harry with his chamber, please."

"Ah, certainly! Tis an honor!" She smiled warmly at Harry, who blushed—Helga _was_ pretty—and she led the way into the room. Harry stopped at the door, unsure whether he should leave Salazar and Rowena together. He watched as Rowena walked off with Salazar, an unsure feeling inside of him.

"Helga?" he asked quietly.

"Hm?" Helga looked at him.

"What is their history?" Harry asked.

"Whose, child?"

"Salazar and Rowena—why don't they get along? I mean, they're _here_, right?"

"To be honest," Helga said thoughtfully, "I do not fully understand it myself. Godric knows more about it. I suggest that thee would ask him."

"Would he answer?" Harry asked, raking back his hair nervously.

"Of course… but Godric is an odd one. He believes in equivalent exchange, so thy will have to offer a piece of knowledge worth what thy wishes to know." Helga chuckled and shook her head, "Godric may act the fool, but he is a sage."

"_Godric?"_ Harry raised an eyebrow, causing Helga to laugh.

"Indeed, child. Now, let us begin thy chamber…"

A short time later, they were finished. They had transfigured the room's furniture into things Harry liked. Helga wished him a good night and left him alone. Swallowing hard, Harry made his way to Godric's chambers. Once there, he knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Godric called. Harry opened the door and stepped in, shutting the door behind him. "Ah, finished thy room, I see. Something seems the matter, lad. Would thou like to speak?" Godric indicated a chair in the room across from him, while sipping a cup of tea.

"…I…" Harry trailed off, wondering what the man would ask in return. "I want to know about Salazar and Rowena." With this, he sat in the proffered chair.

"I beg thy pardon?" Godric asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Helga said that y—that thou art a sage, that yo—thou know a lot." Harry said, "And they don't get along. I know Salazar hates non-magical beings, but then, why are they working together to make a school? It doesn't make sense…" Harry trailed off.

"I am no wise man," Godric said quietly, "I know nothing, child. There is so much _to_ learn that life cannot allow humanity to learn… I _do_, however, know a bit of the past between Salazar and Rowena. However, why should I tell thee?"

"Because… I care about Rowena… and I want to know why she stays here when Salazar constantly harasses her. I…. I want to help, but I can't… because I don't know anything."

"…Thou misinterpreted my comment. I _mean_… none here know thy past. Why then should ours be shared with thee?" Godric raised an eyebrow at Harry, who looked down. "Thy holds many secrets, lad. Why should we hold none?"

"I ­_can't_—" Harry broke off, remembering what Helga had said. "I forgot. You—thou believe in equivalent exchange."

"Indeed I do. It would not be fair for knowledge to be held by only one being. Therefore, lad, that is my trade: your past for theirs."

Harry stood abruptly, "I can't give what yo—thou—ask. Good night." With this, the boy turned to leave.

"Can't, young Harry—or won't? Art thou afraid that thy will ravage thy era?"

Harry slowly turned, an icy chill running up his spine, and stared at Godric disbelievingly. _How did he know?_ The man continued, "I do believe thy should sit, Harry. Also, I do believe that thy would do well to just tell me what I desire. This conversation shall move much faster."

"H-How d-do y-you—I mean thee—how doth… how doth thee know?" Harry asked, slowly easing back into the seat.

Godric smiled, a small one that didn't reach his eyes, "Thou deserves to know that much. I brought thee here. A mistake, of course—I would never breach eras. I was transmuting—that is alchemy, child, I would be astonished if thy knew it—an object. However, I did not use the correct symbols. Thus, thy timely arrival. Rowena found thee on one of her rare trips into the forest. I had left shortly before she arrived, thinking my experiment a failure, thus missing thee."

How could someone stay so calm? Harry looked at Godric in disbelief, "Why me?"

"I know not."

"What was the experiment?"

Godric remained silent for a few moments, sipping his tea, then he said, "To find the truth."

"And… well… I guess you didn't…" Harry looked down—why bother using proper speech if Godric knew about him? He wouldn't hide it.

"No… I did not." Godric remained silent for a bit, and Harry, after a few minutes, spoke.

"Well… since you already know…" Harry sighed, then said, "I'm not going to give exact years."

"Nor would I expect thee to. Time is a fickle matter. Do go on."

Harry nodded, then began to tell his story, starting from when Voldemort—who he did not refer to by name—until his "Aunt" Marge had hit him with the door. He tried not to use names, but sometimes, he couldn't help it. For the Chamber of Secrets, he just said a hidden chamber in the school—he didn't mention Salazar at all. At the end of his tale, during which Godric had remained silent, Harry looked at the man. "And that's it. Rowena found me, and you know the rest."

"A most fascinating tale," Godric murmured quietly. "Most fascinating indeed… that scar upon thy brow is a residue… and yet thou art not bonded…"

"What?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"Thy scar. I would have to see this wizard… but if he is the one who gave it to thee… and thee hath his gifts… then 'tis very possible for thee to be bonded upon a certain level. However, 'tis pure speculation. Wipe it from thy thoughts." Godric said, stretching out his legs. He then peered into his cup of tea, which was empty.

"Sure…." Bonded to _Voldemort_? Yeah, he'd be wiping _that_ thought away soon. Harry shuddered at the mere _idea_.

"Now. Thou wished to know about Rowena and Salazar, I believe…" Godric poured another cup of tea for himself and one for Harry, "I know more about Salazar, therefore I shall begin with him. The Slytherin family is of noble blood, lad. Salazar was raised as such… as was I. I, however, was also taught to appreciate non-magical beings. He was not. Salazar had a brother, a younger brother—"

"_Had_ a brother?" Harry inquired quietly.

"Ah, thy caught on. Yes. One day, whilst his brother was out with a hunting party, another party stumbled across them. Something must have occurred, I know not what, but it resulted in Christopher's death…" Godric trailed off, eyes closed in respect for the deceased. After a few seconds, he continued, "The one who dealt the death blow was Alexander Ravenclaw, a lord in the nearby area.  
"Honor merits a father to avenge the death of a son. Gareth, along with his eldest son, Salazar, rode, trying to find the man who killed Christopher. I was with them, being a friend of the family's. At last, we located the village. Salazar, in fury, burned the village, even though Gareth did not desire to kill innocents, and I begged him not to. None survived the flames… none except one.

"Rowena's natural magic saved her. She had been asked to use her potions to heal a young boy in the village, who had been burnt to death right before her, along with her brother, the man we had been searching for. Taking Alexander's sword, she and Salazar dueled—Rowena defeated him." Godric drank more of his tea, while Harry repressed the urge to rip Salazar to pieces. Godric continued, "However, Salazar was not in right mind. When he was defeated, it was noticed that a curse had been placed upon him. It was promptly removed shortly after, and he was sane once more. Any other woman would have been ruled by emotion… but not Rowena. She had been outcast long before, and only her brother kept in contact with her… and Salazar had not been of sound mind.

"Gareth, partly from guilt and from not having a daughter, took Rowena as his own. Salazar did not agree with this decision, but he did not fight his father on it. After a few years, he left, returning for his father's funeral. Helga was there as well, as was I. It was then that Marlene—Gareth's wife and Salazar's mother—mentioned that Gareth wanted an academia built for magical beings."

"So that's why they're working together… because this Gareth guy wanted it?" Harry asked, wondering if he could work with someone like Voldemort to make his deceased parents happy.

"Aye… that is one reason…" Godric paused uncertainly. "But there is another."

"Which is?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Godric chuckled here, then said, "Hath thou not wondered why Salazar wants thee removed from Rowena's presence? They are, grudgingly, betrothed."

"_WHAT!" _Harry roared, standing, "T-T-They—Rowena's engaged to HIM!"

"Aye, lad—they hath been for near a decade. They refuse to acknowledge the relationship, thus the ensuing fights. Salazar desires to marry a pure-blooded witch—Rowena wishes to devote her time to her studies." Godric shook his head, "'Tis a tangled web indeed. However… doth that information answer thy question?"

"Y-Yes…" Harry shook his head, still unable to believe it. _Rowena _and _Salazar_? But… The Slytherin line was pure, until Voldemort… wasn't it? Then again… history wasn't always accurate… but… he shook his head, trying to clear away the confusion. "But Salazar said that I'd cause division…. That I'd bring about your doom…"

Godric sighed, then said, "All beings… must die, Harry. However, strife has been here since the foundations, and it shall always be. Salazar hides many things… and no matter how I search… he continually outwits me. It has grown over time, and I believe it is simply coming to a head. Sheer luck has it that thou arrived at this time. Do not stake much in prophecies and visions, Harry—nothing is set, not fate, not time. Nothing."

Harry nodded, unsure about that. "Right… well, thanks Godric, for telling me."

"Of course. Have a good night, lad. And Harry?"

Harry looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"To kill a creature such as a basilisk… that requires courage and skill that many do not possess. I am honored to know thee, and proud to call thee my pupil… and friend."

Harry grinned, blushing, "Thank you, Godric."

"I shall always be here if thy need me, lad. However, thy must be wary of thy style of speech outside these chamber walls."

"Of course. Thanks Godric, and have a good night." With this, Harry left the man's chambers and returned to his own. He wasn't thinking about running away anymore—he had too much to learn, like Rowena said.

And speaking of Rowena… there she was, waiting for Harry. "There thou art." She smiled at him warmly, and Harry looked down, feeling a bit guilty—he had told _Godric _the truth, but he hadn't told Rowena. He felt horrible, almost as if he had betrayed her in some way. "Harry?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"…I asked Godric… about y—thee and Salazar." Harry looked down, waiting for her to shout at him or storm away or do something.

"…I see." Rowena paused for a few moments, then said, "I apologize, childling—I should have answered thy question. I know Godric must have made thee give information thy would rather not have. It must have been difficult."

Harry looked up, in astonishment, "B-But I-I betrayed yo—thee! I got information behind thy back!"

Rowena sighed deeply and stood up, smiling, and she said, "Be that as it may, thy told me. That speaks volumes, young one. Art thou tired?"

"Not really…" Harry trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Come with me, then. I fancy a walk."

"Okay." With this the two walked outside, and down the long winding road to a small town near Hogwarts—Rowena called it Hogsmeade. They had a drink of something called butterbeer and, on their return trip, Harry broke down, out of guilt and anger at himself. However, even as Rowena began to comfort him, he pushed her away and there, on the middle of the road, told her everything he had told Godric. At the end of it, he looked at her, unsure of what she was going to reply.

Rowena shifted a little, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, then said, quietly, "Harry, child, thou hast a lot to bear. I only wish that I could help thee… but imagine…" She grinned, the moon illuminating her eyes, her smile, "Hogwarts lasting for generations! Even through the strife and hardships, the school doth survive!"

Harry grinned—she sounded so happy, so excited that it was contagious. "I never thought of it like that."

"I can see that, childling. And thee doth attend, correct?" Rowena was excited.

"Of course. Hogwarts is the best!" Harry replied, his tone showing the truth of that statement.

Rowena looked at him thoughtfully, then said, "Come. I have to show thee. I know Salazar hath his area in the castle, and thou asked me before about if we too altered the castle. Godric hath not, nor hast Helga… but I hath. I shall show thee." With this, she took Harry by the hand and ran to the school, Harry feeling the enormous amount of pressure and guilt no longer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

**I am _so_ sorry about the long wait. I've just been so busy that the next time I looked on here... I apologize, that's all I can say. I've been getting ready for my cousin's sweet fifteen--it's our custom for the 15th birthday, not the 16th, and she's like a little sister to me. I'm still helping with it, too--it's on August 12th, so... I apologize for the inconvenience. I thought that taking off of school for the summer would allow me time, but I was _wrong_, lol. Ah well.  
Moving on... I'm _not _going to hurriedly end this but, as I may or may not have said before, I'm not really a "long story" writer. The only thing I hate more than writing long stories are rushing through and making a horrible ending because I was rushing. I see no reason to really "rush" my writing, personally, because I would rather a wait and a nice chapter than a fast and sloppy one.**

**Once more, thank you ALL for your reviews. Please keep it up!**

6.

Rowena led Harry through the school before stopping at a door on the seventh floor. She winked at Harry and opened the door, revealing a small study.

"What is it?" Harry asked, stepping in.

"This, young one, is the Chamber of Necessity." Rowena smiled at him. "I hath placed a charm upon this chamber. Whenever one hath a need, it shall transform and add materials accordingly." At that moment, another door appeared, and Harry blinked, confused, while Rowena grinned broadly. "However, this chamber is only the entrance to another area." With this, she led the way through the door, Harry right behind.

A staircase that looked as though it were made of light was there, and everything around it seemed made of marble. Harry gaped for a few moments, until Rowena gently led him onto the stairs. Then... they... _moved_. It was like an escalator, but faster, and Harry felt as though he could fall off at any moment.

"Only those I hath approved may use the Versatile Stair, Harry," Rowena explained as they moved. "Only they or my bloodline and those that _they_ approve."

"What does it do?" Harry asked, looking around--scenes of various things were revolving around them. He could see Salazar brewing a potion, Godric practicing with his sword, Helga planting a few small saplings... and other things. He could see horses grazing, fish leaping, mermaids _singing_...

"It transports whomever is upon it to where the person wishes to go, so long as it is on Hogwarts grounds. It also shows what is going on within the school." She smiled as Harry stared at her, incredulity written on his face and continued, "There are many entrances, so long as one _knows where they are_. I hath tried hard to make it so that one cannot stumble upon the Versatile Stair by sheer luck... but this _is_ a magical area, so none can say what can happen." Rowena smiled at him, and Harry blushed--he was proof of that, all right...

"So where are we going?" He inquired.

"I am glad that ye hath asked. We art going to another area, called the Keep. I hath made a connection of sorts. Thou shall see it momentarily." And, as she said it, the stairs began to slow and soon they were in an area surrounded by comfortable furniture, books and scrolls. There were stained glass windows, five of them, and Harry stopped, staring at them. A lion, a bird, a badger, a snake... the Hogwarts animals... but... another one was there. A dragon. A silver dragon, with emerald green eyes... and a scar...

"Rowena--i-is that _me?"_ Harry exclaimed, whirling around to face the woman, who looked down, blushing, before she answered.

"Well... we all hath symbols... counterparts, if ye wishes... except for thee. I hath spoken with the others, and we hath all agreed that, like these animals represent us, thy hath the fiery soul, determination, drive... thy hath the right to hath a symbol, alongside ours." Rowena looked at him, and Harry traced the dragon window with his hand. "It was either that or a wolf, and I nor Godric could see thee as a lupine creature... unless thou desires--"

"N-no, t-this..." Harry stared at the dragon, than whispered, "This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me..." And, to his utter horror, he could feel tears welling up.

"Harry?" Rowena gently held him, and the boy cried into her shoulder, unsure of whether to be ashamed or something else. "Child, ye can stay here, if thy wish it. We shall not send thee away."

"Well _this_ is interesting," a voice drawled, making both of them look up. Salazar, of course. Harry wiped his face while Rowena calmly lounged on a sofa.

"Can we help thee, Salazar?" she asked coolly, as Harry sat next to her, trying hard to emulate her calm attitude and nonchalant demeanor.

"Indeed," he snapped. "Godric hath left the grounds--something about a quest. I know that it shall not go well, and he shall need help."

"So... go help him," Harry said, making Rowena smile and nod in agreement.

Salazar glared, "I shall also require assistance, fool."

"Harry shall go with thee." Rowena smiled as both of them stared at her in shock and horror.

_"Him!"_ Both demanded, staring at the other with revulsion and disgust written on both faces. "_No!_"

"_Ye both will go!"_ Rowena thundered a severe and threatening glare on her face.

"...Yes madam..." Both Harry and Salazar muttered sullenly, glaring at each other and at the floor.

"Stop pouting and go find Godric." With this, Rowena left the Keep, and the two looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

"I could always stay here," Harry said helpfully.

Salazar glared, "Come, brat."

"The inbred whiner calls _me_ a brat," Harry retorted, as Salazar glared. Without a word, he whirled, cloak billowing behind him, and led the way, Harry following, not liking this arrangement any more than the man in front. Why had Rowena _done_ this? Well, that was easy--it was either her or Harry. Stupid Godric. Why did the man have to go on a dangerous quest anyway...?

Then again, Harry had no room to judge. He had gone after Quirrell _and_ a basilisk. Maybe hearing Harry's story had made Godric get the urge to go out himself. Yep--Harry was a true Gryffindor all right. Dangerous quests galore... but no Slytherins went chasing after _him._ Well, not that he knew of, anyway...

Salazar led the way, occasionally glaring at Harry, but saying nothing. Harry, gritting his teeth, did the same--he would _not_ let this man get to him. So the two walked through the Forbidden Forest, which seemed far more foreboding and wild than it did in Harry's era. They walked for _hours_, and soon, both of their feet were hurting and the two were _thirsty_.

"Yes, Godric needs help. Maybe if don't die of thirst first we'll be able to help him!" Harry snapped at Salazar, who glared back.

"And doth thou not have a tongue? Why did ye not speak back at the castle?" The man retorted, angry at the fact that Harry spoke truth and both of them knew it.

"Because I thought that yo--thee--were intelligent! _Obviously_, I was wrong!"

"Obviously thou hath not the intellect ye think because thy would hath said something at the castle!"

And on they went, arguing loudly, as they walked through the forest. Harry didn't usually get so angry or argumentative, but Salazar brought it out in him. The older wizard was _annoying_...

Eventually, night fell and the two, unable to see, agreed to settle for the night. The problem, however, was that they did not trust each other. Meaning...

"I want first watch," said Harry immediately as they sat.

"I shall hath the first watch," Salazar replied.

"Um... no. I will."

"Thou shall most certainly _not_."

And, yet again, they were at it. _Why_ had Rowena sent him with _Salazar?_ Why couldn't Helga go? Or Salazar by himself? Then he could have been eaten by some dark scary creature and they would never see his egotistic face ever again! But nooo, they she sent _Harry_. Had he angered some god or goddess? How could the Sorting Hat ever have wanted to put him in Slytherin? He was _nothing_ like Salazar!

Harry and Salazar glared at each other, but before they could say anything more, a voice spoke, "Good evening to thee, wizards."

Both Harry and Salazar looked around--a centaur stood there, a bow in his hands. Harry blinked, seeing him, and Salazar glared. "Hullo," Harry said politely. "And y--thou art?"

"I am Adham," the centaur replied. "And ye?"

"I'm Harry, this is Salazar. We're looking for another wizard--his name's Godric. Have y-ye seen him?" inquired Harry hopefully.

The centaur chuckled, "Ah, Godric. But of course, Sir Harry. Godric hath gone to the Southern Edge of the Wood."

Salazar's jaw dropped, "_The Southern Edge_? In the name of the gods, why?"

"He hath heard of a dragon."

Twin groans from Harry and Salazar, and Salazar said, "That man and his proving his bravery! Why? What doth he intend?"

"To take some of the dragon's hoard, I believe. I said it would not be wise, but Godric doth not pay us heed." Adham shrugged, "He hath claimed he shall not rest until he reaches the dragon."

"Hell," Harry said softly. "Salazar, we've got to catch up to him."

"Indeed." Salazar said, running a hand through his hair. "Come. Sir Adham, thank ye."

"Would ye like a guide?" the centaur inquired. "My herd hath lodging nearby, and it would not do for ye to stumble into it."

"Sure," Harry said quickly, ignoring Salazar's glare. "A guide would be most helpful. Thank ye."

With this, as exhausted as thirsty as they were, the two continued walking... and walking... _and walking_. How far _was_ this "Southern Edge?" Why hadn't Harry ever heard of it? The boy and Salazar shared twin looks of exhaustion and exasperation. Softly, Salazar said, "I dare say that when we see Godric we shall give him a most thorough beating."

"I second that," Harry replied quietly, as they walked. Adham must have heard them because the centaur chuckled but didn't stop walking. After a long (_very _long) while, they reached a stream.

"_Water!"_ Harry shouted, running to it and dunking his head in, drinking as he did so. Salazar would have been laughing... if he weren't doing the same thing. The two drank their fill as Adham waited patiently. Harry never thought _water_ would taste so good. He didn't want to leave the stream, and neither, apparently, did Salazar. Adham sighed, took one of his water skins, filled it to the brim, and handed it to the two wizards.

"Young Harry, Sir Salazar... perhaps... next time ye wander into the Wood... ye shall remember thy water skins?" The centaur gave them both a father-like disapproving look, and both of them looked down sheepishly.

"Of course, Adham. Thank ye for thy generosity," Salazar said, Harry nodding his agreement. With this, they continued their trek.

"Salazar?"

"What, boy?" The wizard glared at Harry.

"How did Godric get so far ahead? How long was he gone before ye came for assistance?" Harry inquired, blinking as he realized that, for the first time, the style of speaking had just seemed... natural.

"I do not know," Salazar said quietly. "I had received my vision moments before I went to the Keep."

Harry nodded, unsure of what to think or say about this when Adham suddenly stopped. After a bit, both Salazar and Harry knew why--the stench of sulfur, brimstone... _fire_... was in the air. The dragon had to be near.

"This is as far as I can bring ye," Adham said quietly. "The Southern Edge is near. Follow the stench."

"Thank ye for thy assistance," Harry said, shaking Adham's hand. "I hope we meet again."

Salazar shook the centaur's hand as well, and Adham walked a bit before he stopped and turned. "Pardon the question... but if ye both know Godric... doth ye, by chance, know Lady Ravenclaw?"

"Yes," Salazar said quickly. "We do. Doth ye know her as well?"

Adham smiled, a warm, affectionate one, and said, "Ah... Lady Ravenclaw. Would that she were not only human... yes, Salazar, I doth know her. If ye see her after thy mission... would thy tell her that we hath been missing her?"

"..." Salazar said nothing, but Harry nodded.

"Sure, Adham. It is the least we can do."

The centaur smiled and, bowing its head in farewell, galloped off. Harry smirked at Salazar, who glared at him. "What, boy?" the man demanded.

"Everyone else would take her, and yet she is engaged to thee. Thou art a fool if thy know not what thy hath." With this, leaving Salazar staring at his back in astonishment, and Harry grinning because he had _finally_ gotten the language down, the boy led the way, following his nose. Salazar followed silently, Harry's words having struck him in a way that no one else had.

And, as they walked, they could see a cave and... someone sleeping. Harry ran over, shaking the person. "Godric! So help me, I should kill ye myself!"

"Hm?" Godric blinked, weary, and suddenly grinned. "Ah, Harry! Thou hast decided to join me!"

"_No!_" Harry said, groaning. "Salazar and I hath come to _stop_ ye."

"Salazar?" Godric sat up and smiled, "Hullo."

Salazar sighed, "Goodness, man, what in the name of the heavens were ye thinking?"

"I heard that a dragon was here," Godric said, as if that statement explained everything.

Harry and Salazar exchanged looks of exasperation. "_And_?" Salazar growled.

"And I hath come to slay it!" Godric finished proudly, displaying his sword as he did so. Harry sighed, looking at Salazar, who just shook his head. Godric paused, hearing a loud snort, and the three looked at the cave. "Doth ye think the monster sleeps?"

"Personally? I would rather not find out," Harry said truthfully, while Salazar nodded energetically in agreement.

Godric smiled and stood up, "I hath assistance. Into the den I shall now enter." With this, he strode purposefully into the cave, making Harry and Salazar share looks.

"And _he_ is the sage," Harry groaned.

"Indeed. So... what should we do?" Salazar looked at the cave thoughtfully.

"Save him?"

"I suppose." With this, the two entered the riches-full cave--and froze. _What in the world was Godric DOING? _He had a feather in his hand and he was creeping up to the dragon!

"Godric!" Harry hissed, looking at Salazar who had begun to grab some of the loot. Harry, after a moment, shrugged and did the same.

"Thy need not worry, young one!" Godric hissed back. "I hath heard that dragons do not feel such slight touches!"

_This could not end well..._ Harry thought, and he and Salazar began taking more things, Harry taking off his robe and making a bag out of it. He had on a tunic and tights underneath (surprisingly, he had adjusted quickly to the clothing), and Salazar, seeing the cleverness of the tactic, began piling goods into Harry's robe as well. At that moment, a huge roar broke out and Godric yelped, grabbing things as he ran. Salazar and Harry each grabbed a few handfuls and _ran_. Harry pulled Salazar to him, the dragon's fire barely missing them, and shoved the man in front of him. "GO!"

Harry, even when running from Dudley, had _never_ run so fast in his life. The three wizards ran, somehow still holding onto their goods, until the stench of the dragon had long since faded.

Godric was panting and Salazar grabbed him by his collar and shook him, "What-were-ye-thinking?" Every word was slow due to the energetic shaking.

"Well… I heard that dragons did not feel slight touches." Godric looked slightly abashed, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"D-did—and _ye decided to test this?"_ Salazar roared in fury.

"Yes." Godric nodded and Salazar and Harry shared looks. "However, I hath learned something."

"What?" Both Harry and Salazar asked resignedly.

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon. I do believe we shall hath to pass that knowledge on through the ages." Godric nodded thoughtfully while Salazar lunged at him and proceeded to beat him. Harry sat back, laughing as he watched them. After he was sure Godric had suffered enough, he spoke.

"Let us return to Hogwarts."

"Yes," Salazar agreed, _"after_ we rest." He looked thoughtfully at Harry, "Harry."

"Yes?" Harry yawned, the events hitting him at once and causing him to be exhausted.

"…I…" Salazar fell silent then continued, "Ye saved my life."

Harry shrugged, "A dragon would not hath stopped at thee. Besides, I could not face Rowena knowing that I let her betrothed die. Good night Salazar."

"Good night Harry." Salazar gazed thoughtfully at the boy, who stuck out his tongue, causing the man to laugh, and soon, both of them were asleep, forcing Godric to take first watch.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry about the wait! Um... check out my site, I usually put a few things on there. Haven't recently, but I'll try to remember to. Blah, blah, blah, enjoy!**  
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**Chapter 7**

Harry was woken up by a gentle shaking.

"Huh?" He muttered, groggy from sleep.

"Tis time for thy watch," murmured Godric's voice softly. "When the mood is high, wake Salazar."

After a few moments of groggy movements, Harry was sitting a few yards away, surveying the woods around them. He knew to not focus on one spot and to keep his gaze constantly moving--he'd see any intruders as movements, not standing still.

So the few hours passed in this fashion, until the time arrived for Salazar's watch. Harry woke the man up and was asleep as soon as he rested his head.

It felt like moments later when he was being shaken awake once again. But this time, he _knew_ something was amiss--both Godric and Salazar were awake, but they both looked worried, concerned... and it was still nighttime.

"What is it?" Harry inquired, looking at the two of them, whispered, anxiety on his face.

"Shhh!" Salazar hissed softly, looking around, his wand out, ready to fire.

Harry, thinking ahead, quickly grabbed a dagger from Godric's stash. The man nodded, approving the boy's thoughts. "Wise... but against a Kluudde... useless."

"...What's a Kluudde?" Harry asked, confused.

"A water demon... usually comes in the form of a dog..." Godric trailed off, as they all heard it: the sound of chains clinking in the night.

"None have outrun it--it swings like a snake through the trees," Salazar murmured. "Our only chance... is to defeat it."

Harry swallowed hard; from the apprehension on both of their faces, the tension that he could practically cut through with a knife, and the fact that he couldn't really see in the dark... made him almost wish he were facing the dragon once more.

His attention was distracted by Salazar until a none-too-gentle push startled Harry and made the boy whirl, clutching the dagger tightly.

"Thou hast no chance, lad, since thou doth not use wandless magicks," Godric murmured, having moved closer to Harry. "And Rowena would never forgive us should something happen to thee. So... child... I apologize... but you should _sleep_..."

_Sleep, sleep, sleep_... the word repeated in Harry's mind and, in a swirl of colors, he lost conscious.

**xXxXxXx xXxXxXx xXxXxXx**

He was in a room that was very obviously a library. The shelves around him, full of tomes, scrolls, tablets, and loose pieces of parchment made that obvious...

Was this the Hogwarts library? It looked so much like it...

"Harry James Potter. I had wondered if we would one day meet," a voice said, a deep, grave-sounding one, which caused the boy to jump and whirl to face the speaker.

The man was tall and straight with a head full of thick, wild, white hair, and bristling white eyebrows. In his grim tanned face the nose curved, like a hawk's beak, and the eyes were deep-set and a dark brown. Harry couldn't tell the man's age, but, instinctively, he knew that there was _something_ ancient about the man, yet ageless and endless at the same time...

"Do I know you?" Harry demanded fiercely, glaring at the man.

He chuckled softly, obviously amused by Harry, and indicated the chair by him. "Sit, young Potter. We have much to discuss."

"I'm not doing anything until you tell me who you are!"

"My name is Myrddin Wyllt." At Harry's confused stare, the man continued, "I am the distant cousin of someone you know--the Lady Ravenclaw."

"You're related to Rowena? But her family is--" Harry began, but Myrddin interrupted.

"Deceased? Yes. I know. Our family passed away, but both of us survived. I said a _distant _cousin--I did not live with our family. They shunned me long ago, and I saw no reason to return. The Lady Ravenclaw seems to have some of my talents." The man smiled and looked at Harry, "Hm. I thought you'd be taller, for some reason. No matter. We have business to discuss, you and I."

"I don't have anything to talk about with you!" Harry snapped.

Myrddin smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "You will... if you want to get back home, to your time."

**xXxXxXx xXxXxXx xXxXxXx**

"Harry? Child? Wake up!" Godric was shaking him.

Harry looked around; they were by the castle. He looked at the two older wizards, confused, and Godric explained, "The centaurs lent us a hand, lad. Art thou well?"

"... Yes... I think... where's Rowena?"

Salazar rolled his eyes and Godric smiled, "Inside. Come, let us go."

Relieved, Harry followed the two wizards into the school, glancing at the floating riches next to them. Something told him that he would be meeting Myrddin again _very_ soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The three were in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts, Godric looking at his feet. The expression on his face reminded Harry of a puppy that was being lectured. It was quite amusing, and from glancing at Salazar, Harry could tell the man felt the same way.

"Tis what he deserves," Salazar muttered softly to Harry, seeing the boy looking at him. "Ye and I may have been injured or worse. He must learn to control his intellectual questions."

"I still cannot believe ye were foolish enough to attempt to tickle a sleeping dragon." Helga said, furious beyond measure. "Thou art a _fool_, Godric. Ye _know_ better than this. And think of the model ye hath just been for young Harry!"

"I…" Godric kept his gaze at his feet.

"Helga—" Harry tried to interrupt, but the woman continued on her tirade against Godric, until they were interrupted.

"Pardon me." The four of them turned, and Harry forced himself not to gape at the woman. She looked like a vision… she was slender and pale, with light blue eyes and jet black hair, and she was wearing silk black robes. After the initial surprise, Harry found that he was… uncomfortable. He didn't know why; there was _something_ about this woman that made him… edgy. He didn't know what it was, though. Harry looked at the others; Helga and Godric seemed confused, but Salazar was smiling.

"Ah, my dear," Salazar purred. He looked back at the others, "Might I introduce the lovely Lady Georgina Redbird?" When Salazar kissed her hand, Harry knew, somehow, that _this_ was who Salazar was going to marry… but he was engaged to Rowena…

"Where is the… woman," Redbird said, the word sounding disgusted, "that hath been sworn to ye, Salazar?"

Godric stared at Salazar in disbelief, and Helga was doing the same. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but someone else had spoken. "I am here, Lady Redbird," Rowena said, coming down the staircase. She looked at Harry, ignoring the others for a brief second, "Youngling, how doth ye fare?"

"I am well," Harry replied, going to her immediately, standing by her supportively. Redbird seemed to notice this and gave him a glare, which Harry met—this woman had _nothing_ on Snape, Voldemort, or even the Dursleys! She seemed to realize that he wasn't scared and looked back at Salazar, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Ravenclaw," Salazar said, the arrogant sneer in his voice that reminded Harry immediately of Malfoy, "We request a private meeting with ye."

"This is madness, Salazar," Godric hissed, furious, and Harry agreed with the man. Helga looked as if she could not believe it. Harry looked back at Rowena, who smiled.

"The old words have it best, Godric," Rowena murmured, "be of good cheer. Very well. Lady Redbird, Salazar, let us go. Harry, child, accompany Godric and Helga."

"I want to go with ye," Harry said, glaring at Salazar—and to think, he had been trying to get along with the man!

Her voice was soft, low, "Remember what I hath said before, young one. Do not allow our acrimony to affect thy thoughts of him."

"I know, Rowena," Harry muttered, reluctantly. "I just… do not like it."

"If he decides this is the course he desires to take, than so be it." She smiled at Harry and left with the other two, Helga and Godric furious.

"... Nothing will be done with us just fuming," Harry said. "We should do something."

"Yes." Helga said, snapping out of her thoughts. "We shall finish details that must be complete. Students shall be arriving soon." She began to walk up the staircase, Godric following behind her, a pensive look on his face.

_They would_? "How soon?" Harry asked.

"Within the next day or two," Godric answered. Harry felt sick to his stomach—this was rather unexpected. "We hath picked them ourselves."

"I see." Harry followed behind them, "And I?"

"Ye art our student," Helga explained, leading the way. "If ye doth desire it… once ye training is complete… ye shall teach here as well."

_Teach at Hogwarts?_ "How long is the training?"

"Ye know enough to teach young students," Godric said, as they reached the end of a hallway and began adjusting parlor rooms. "Perhaps a year or two, and ye shall be ready to teach, I feel."

"A-art thou sure?"

"Harry, thy hath a feeling about ye," Helga said, and she smiled at him, "that ye hath been through much. I would be honored to learn from such a lad."

"Thank ye…" Harry blushed and continued working with them—he hadn't noticed the improvement in his skills until they had mentioned him becoming a teacher… him, teach at Hogwarts? It was almost… surreal.

The three continued working, Harry pushing himself past his limit, until, a long time later, Rowena showed up, alone.

"Rowena?" they all asked, concerned.

She smiled at them, and Harry had never seen her look so… _relieved_. "He desires to marry her."

"But he knows the repercussions, doth he not?" Godric asked, concerned.

Rowena shrugged and began helping with the work, "I do not know. But… tis no concern of mine; she is his betrothed now." She began helping Harry with his spellwork, and the boy admired her strength and resolve.

Perhaps Gryffindors were brave… but Ravenclaws had a lot to be admired for too. So did Hufflepuffs… Harry looked at the three founders, stopping his work for a moment. Even Slytherin… he had a set goal, and he made sure he achieved it.

Maybe… it didn't_matter_ what House someone was put in. It didn't matter to them about Harry; they _all_ had taught Harry… maybe it was because of these differences that their friendships were so strong…

"Come along, child," Rowena said, smiling at him. "Ye hath a long night ahead."

"Of course," Harry said, forcing himself up to help. "Godric, what is going to happen to the riches we found?"

"My share shall go to the academia," Godric replied. He glanced at Harry, "Why? Doth ye have a plan?"

Harry thought about it; he was an orphan, but his parents had left him an inheritance. What if they hadn't? How would he have been able to afford Hogwarts? He didn't know the answer to that… but perhaps… he_was_ in the past…

"I think…" he murmured, thinking of the best way to phrase the words; he remembered learning in primary school that only "privileged" people had been allowed an education for a long time… "I think that any child… that has the Gift… should be allowed to learn the Art… regardless of blood… or price."

"What doth ye mean, lad?" Helga asked; all three were looking at him with interest.

"My share… I would like it to be used… for less fortunate students. So they can afford the necessary supplies." Harry looked at them, wondering how they would react to this.

"I had not thought of that…" Helga murmured, "Oh, the poor children who would have the Gift and yet never learn of it because of a trifle such as funding… Harry, lad, ye art wise beyond thy years."

"Indeed," Godric smiled at him, "I shall make sure part of my share is for thy cause as well, young one."

Harry looked at Rowena, and her gentle regard warmed him more than any sunlight ever could. "A wonderful idea, youngling… a wonderful one… we shall implement it at first light. But now…"

"Now," Godric said with a flourish, "to bed! All of us! We hath worked long and hard this day, and though the lad remains silent, I can see his exhaustion!"

Harry blushed but laughed, and went to his room after bidding everyone good night. The silvery light of the moon filled his room, and Harry smiled, thinking of the fact that he was making a difference, that _his opinions_ mattered in the making of Hogwarts. This fact and his exhaustion ensured a swift entrance into sleep for Harry.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Harry was beyond nervous; his stomach was in knots and he felt like he wanted to vomit. The students would be arriving today. There weren't a lot, and that fact surprised him; it seemed as if it ranged from three to five students for each Founder. Redbird would be teaching students too. He knew that she loathed Rowena with a passion, and, as a result, her loathing had spread over to Harry as well. Not wanting to cause awkwardness, Harry had begun avoiding Salazar, preferring to spend his time practicing his magic...

He looked at the lake, nibbling on a piece of hot, buttered bread that Rowena had insisted he eat. He had been here for about a month now, and nobody had come for him. Was it possible, then, that he could stay here? The boy stared at the lake, lost in thought, until the clearing of a throat startled him out of his thoughts.

Salazar stood there, staring at him. "Art thou well?"

"... As well as I can be," Harry admitted truthfully. "Just worried." He began to glance around; what was the best way to leave without seeming overly rude...?

"Nerves..." Salazar moved closer to Harry and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Nerves are odd… Ye could face a dragon and yet ye art petrified at the thought of meeting those similar to ye." The hand on Harry's shoulder tightened, causing a stream of pain to run through the boy, who tried to push away from Salazar, but the man's grip was firm, and his gaze into Harry was like a dagger, "Ye hath been avoiding me, boy."

"Let go!" Harry snapped, jerking away. He was surprised when Salazar did as he said. "What does it matter if I am?"

Salazar shook his head and looked up at the sky, an exasperated look on his face, and then back at Harry, "I owe ye a life debt."

"So?"

"... So it would not bode well for me to be disliked, should ye decide to collect heavily upon this debt." Salazar looked away and said, his voice so low Harry could barely hear him, "I do not desire to give ye my first child as payment."

"What?!" Harry was mortified. "Why the hell would I take away a child?!" The thought was an odd one, except...

Except... if Salazar didn't have children... then there would be no Voldemort... Harry stood very still, thinking about this. If there was no Voldemort... so many things would be different, would be better... and he would have his parents...

But he couldn't do that! That would change history, and Harry didn't want that...

Did he? The boy's mind reeled, thinking. What would the world be like without Voldemort? Without the Death Eaters... what would it be like?

The thought scared Harry--he hadn't wanted to be able to decide what was right and wrong. And perhaps Salazar had more than one child... any of them could be Voldemort's ancestor. Harry forced himself to calm down and think logically. He was still a kid himself; he definitely couldn't take care of anyone else.

Coming out of his thoughts, Harry could see that Salazar had been talking the entire time about different reasons why Harry would want his firstborn. "Salazar," Harry interrupted, "I wouldn't want any of thy children. Understand?"

Salazar stared at Harry, unsure of how to respond to that comment. "But... I... I wronged Ravenclaw..."

"And...?" Harry was confused. "What does that have to do with me and thy firstborn? Rowena wouldn't resort to something like that, and neither will I. But..." Harry couldn't help it, the question came out of him, "But _why? _Why do that to Rowena?"

"Neither of us desired the other. And though ye may not see the logic of a pure linage, _I_ do. I shall not taint the Slytherin name by marrying a Mud--a witch of non-magical lineage." Salazar had corrected his slip of the tongue quickly.

Harry was glad that the man had caught himself in the middle of the word, "Well..."

"Pardon me," Rowena's voice interrupted the two. "Harry, if thy would not mind accompanying me, I shall introduce ye to someone and to a student of Helga's."

"Of course!" Harry ran after her, but he looked back at Salazar for a brief second and saw a flash of some kind of emotion on the man's face before Salazar resumed his usual neutral expression. But that expression... he looked... not angry, but... jealous?

"So who is the student?" Harry inquired, curious.

"A young maiden a tad younger than ye, youngling," Rowena said, giving Harry a warm smile. "Her name is Celia Gray, and she is from Cornwall."

"So one of the students is from the West," Salazar's voice said; he had apparently decided to follow them.

Rowena gave him a glance and nodded, "She is."

"And how, pray tell, did she arrive so swiftly," Salazar began, obviously angry somehow, "when students I hath selected hath not managed to?"

"Because I," Rowena said, her voice not displaying any arrogance or anger, "arranged transport for most of the students. Most of them shall be arriving by portkey, save for those under thy charge. Ye refused my offer of assistance, if ye shall cast thy mind back."

Salazar harrumphed and Harry shook his head; how she managed to outwit Salazar every time still amazed Harry. But the man continued, "Yet ye said only one student had arrived, and she was one of Helga's."

"Yes. She was too far. I arranged for her to be brought here. She arrived early as a result, and is talking to Helga. I shall introduce Harry to her after--"

"After _what_, pray tell?" Salazar inquired, when another, voice that Harry recognized instantly interrupted them.

"Pray tell why ye hath decided to interrogate my cousin, stranger." There was a power in the words that Harry hadn't heard last time, but he recognized the speaker. MyrddinWyllt stood there, wearing all blue robes with gold trim... blinking, Harry looked back and saw Rowena wearing robes that were similar. Well, at least he wasn't seeing things.

"Oh, thy cous--" Salazar began with a sneer and then he broke off, his jaw dropping when he saw the speaker. "M-_Myrddin Wyllt!?_"

The brown-haired, brown-eyed man stared disapprovingly at Salazar for a long time before Rowena murmured something that Harry couldn't understand. Neither did Salazar, apparently, because he stared at Rowena, confused, but Myrrdin must have, because he stopped glaring and looked at Harry.

"Hello once again, Harry."

"Hello," Harry muttered, wondering why Salazar's reaction had been so over-the-top at seeing the man. Myrrdin gave Harry a small smile and then turned to his cousin.

"It has been too long, my Raven." He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I hath missed ye greatly, and can use thy help with the knights. They are so much like children some days..."

"All in due time, dear Merlin," Rowena said, walking arm-in-arm with him into Hogwarts, the two talking, more in the manner of best friends than distant cousins.

"Wait," Harry said slowly, staring after them, his eyes wide in astonishment. "D-did she just call him _Merlin!?_"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

Harry stared after Rowena and her cousin, unable to hide the astonishment on his face, until a small, timid voice inquired, "P-Pardon me, sir… would this be the academia of Hogwarts?"

Harry turned, looking around, and noticed a small, thin, and pale young boy, with messy dark blond hair and dark blue eyes. "Yes, it would be," Harry said, looking around and noticing a few other children behind the boy. These must be the Hogwarts children… but they were so _small_, so _young_…

"And why are ye just standing there, boy?" a voice demanded, full of fury and anger, and Harry could see the boy in front of him tremble a bit. The other children looked concerned for him, but none of them spoke. Harry then saw the speaker—a tall man with long, light blond hair who reminded him instantly of Lucius Malfoy.

"Perhaps, Father," another voice said, and Harry wondered if the man had cloned himself, "he needs another… lesson…"

The new speaker was closer to Harry's height and age. Harry, hoping he wouldn't cause a scene, spoke, "And whom might ye be, sir?" This was addressed to the older man.

With a sneer, the man turned from glaring menacingly at the young, shaking boy, to face Harry, "I," he said arrogantly, "am William Malfoy. And whom might _ye_ be?"

"He is our assistant, _Sir_ Malfoy," Godric said, coming up behind Harry. "I saw Salazar come in pale as a specter," he explained to Harry in a low voice, "and I was worried about ye."

Harry smiled, "I'm fine, but thank ye."

Godric nodded and looked back at William Malfoy, and Harry could see by their stances that the two did not like each other. "So ye brought the students Salazar selected. I am not surprised, of course, just irritated… Orion, I presume?" this was directed towards the older son.

"I am," Orion said, sneering in a way identical to his father. "Hmph, if this boy," here he indicated Harry, "is the assistant, I shall rise to be a teacher before I am finished my lessons."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Godric shook his head, and Harry stopped. "Harry is to be obeyed, Orion, as if one of us had spoken. Doth ye understand?"

Orion and William glared at Harry, who stared back, forcing himself to look expressionless. Godric smiled at the younger boy at this point, "Ah, Tobias, there ye are!" Godric looked at Harry and smiled, "This is Tobias Malfoy, the younger brother. Orion is Salazar's student, and Tobias mine."

_A Malfoy in GRYFFINDOR?_ Harry's eyes widened, unsure of what to think about this. But the little boy sure didn't _act_ like the other two members of his family…

"That is Edward Pavlides, Esther Hofing, Thomas Smalls, and Franziska Hyde," Godric said, pointing out each of the children. "All of them are under Salazar. Would ye mind bringing them to the Great Hall? I shall escort the other students, who should be arriving soon."

"Sure. Come on," Harry said to the others, leading the way. Tobias was right behind him, and Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy, especially with the way Orion was leering at him. And by the way he was so twitchy and nervous… Harry could guess that his family wasn't exactly nice. Perhaps they were to Tobias what the Dursleys were to Harry. Ugh, what a horrible thought! Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and entered the Great Hall.

"Salazar," he said loudly, causing the adults all to look up, "Thy students. And one of Godric's, whom shall stay with me until Godric comes back."

Tobias smiled gratefully at Harry as the other children waved goodbye and followed Salazar. Except for Orion, who glared directly at Tobias, who hid behind Harry, and at Harry, who just narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin boy. It seemed that Orion Malfoy and Redbird had something in common already—they didn't like Harry, and the feeling was mutual.

"Ah, youngling," Rowena said, smiling, "This is Celia."

Harry stared at the girl and smiled at her—she reminded him so much of Hermione. "Hello."

"H-Hello…"

"Celia, Rowena, this is Tobias." Harry gently pushed the boy forward and murmured to Rowena, "What are they supposed to call me?"

"Why, Professor, of course," Rowena said, staring at him.

"But I can't use my surname!" Harry said, trying not to panic.

"Then," Myrrdin said from beside them—Harry knew he must have heard the entire thing—"ye may use mine. Ye art practically Rowena's child as it is. What more fitting name for ye to carry than something of her blood?"

Harry gaped at him, while Rowena smiled and looked at Harry, "Well?"

"I… I'd be honored. Thank you."

The man merely nodded and went back to thoughtfully staring at the ceiling, nodding his approval at the charms on it. Soon, Godric returned, a line of children behind him, and Harry took his seat at the Head Table next to Rowena and Godric; Harry was in the middle of the table. Wow—the Hall looked different from up here. He could see Celia talking to some of the people at her table, the Slytherins murmuring to themselves, the Hufflepuffs staring in awe around them, and the Gryffindors were talking, obviously excited.

"Harry," Salazar said with his usual demeanor. "Ye are to greet the students."

_What? _"What?" Harry asked in disbelief, unsure of how to proceed—the Headmaster was supposed to do that! He wasn't the Headmaster!

Helga chuckled and explained, "We are all equal, and we agreed it would be best if ye did it, to show that none of us four hath any more say than the other."

Harry could see the logic behind it, but that didn't mean he had to like it… And Dumbledore always started his speeches weird… but he didn't really start his speeches until after supper…

"I'll greet them," Harry said slowly, "but look at them—they must be hungry, and I know I am. Why don't we do a small greeting now, and then, after we all eat, I'll inform them of what we expect and the other things?"

Everyone nodded and Harry, swallowing hard, stood up. "Hello everyone," he said, loud enough to be heard. Everyone was silent immediately, looking up at the Head Table. "I am Professor Harry Wyllt, and I would like to welcome everyone to Hogwarts. For now, enjoy dinner, and afterwards I shall be giving out a few notices. For now, tuck in!" With this, Harry sat and dinner appeared, much like it did in his time. He noticed Rowena grinning and looking at Helga.

"Ye managed to acquire house elves, then?"

"Aye, I did," Helga said, smiling back at her. "I contacted an old associate, and her husband managed to help us gather a few! Although Harry here did teach me how to prepare a few delightful dishes in case we could not acquire house elves." Here she grinned at Harry, who blushed.

"I-It was nothing…"

"So modest," Godric said, in between bites, his words muffled from the food. Both Helga and Rowena sighed.

"_Must_ ye eat like a pig at every meal, Godric?" both women asked simultaneously. Harry just stared at them and laughed as Godric just nodded vigorously and shoveled more food onto his plate. Harry chuckled and looked around him. Salazar was talking to Redbird about something--they usually spoke over meals in soft voices. Helga and Rowena were talking... Harry looked at Myrrdin and blinked in surprise--the man was looking at Harry. Seeing the boy meet his eyes, he smiled, a warm one, and looked at his cousin affectionately.

"She cares deeply for ye." It was softly spoken.

"It goes both ways," Harry replied, looking around. The students seemed finished...

"Now that we are all full," Harry said, looking at Godric pointedly and making the students laugh as he sheepishly put down a piece of pie and looked at Harry, "I shall give the notices. All of ye will be taught by different teachers, not just the one whom selected ye. Since all of ye are the first students here, expectations shall be high. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor Wyllt," the students chorused.

"That is all. The Heads of House shall explain their own rules privately and shall lead ye to thy rooms." With this, Harry sat and the students left, each following one of the Founders. Soon, only Redbird, Myrrdin and Harry were left in the Great Hall.

Redbird and Myrrdin shared looks, and both of them nodded, causing Harry to stare at them, confused. The boy shrugged and began to walk out of the Great Hall.

He wasn't ready for the spell that hit him from behind.


	11. Chapter 11

_**There's a quote from Bayard Taylor and another from Bertrand Russell here. I'm sure you'll know which lines are the quotes, but if not, just ask and I'll put them on my site.**_

**Chapter 11**

"Lad! Harry!"

"Let him breathe, Godric!" Rowena's voice was the first thing Harry could identify. Everything was blurry... "Oh hell," he could hear her swear. "Someone hath removed the charm I placed upon his eyes, so that he could see..." Harry couldn't hear the muttered spell, but everything was crisp and clear once again, and Harry could see Rowena, Myrrdin and Godric standing concerned over him, and he could hear Salazar, Redbird, and Helga keeping the students back, telling them that all was well.

"Professor Wyllt?" Tobias Malfoy had snuck his way past the adults and was holding Harry's hand while the adults spoke in low voices.

"Tobias, what happened?" Harry asked, trying to sit up.

"I came back because I forgot something, sir," Tobias admitted quietly, "and there were people in here, I've never seen so many in one area..."

"A man was chanting something," Myrddin explained, seeing Harry awake, "a man with a long white beard, long white hair, blue eyes and a pointed hat. He appeared in thy chair when ye went to leave."

Dumbledore. Harry would recognize that description anywhere.

"We did not know who he was," Redbird said, having gotten all of the students except for Tobias back to their rooms. "But he was after ye. Myrddin and I forced him away, and the others heard us shouting."

"We were worried," Myrddin said, looking over Harry. "When ye collasped..."

Harry looked around and realized Godric looked... uncomfortable. As if he knew something the others didn't... "Yeah... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry everyone." Harry made a mental note to talk to Godric later--he wanted to know what that look could be about. Oddly enough, as soon as Godric noticed Harry's eyes on him, he forced himself into a netural expression. Yes--Harry definately had to talk to him...

"So long as ye art well, my child," Rowena murmured, and Harry leaned into her gentle touch. "Did he hurt ye?"

"No," he murmured, softly, so that only she could hear. "I think I know him, though. I think... I think he's trying to bring me home."

Rowena stiffened and looked at Harry, concern, love, acceptance... all of these were in her eyes, as she said, "Did we do the right thing, then?"

"Yes." Harry clung to her here, proving his point, "I think so. I want to stay here... if ye shall have me."

"Oh child," Rowena murmured, kissing him on the forehead, "ye doth not even need ask. Wherever I lay my head, ye may call home." She looked at him, brown eyes full of warmth and affection, and murmured, "I love thee, I love but thee, with a love that shall not die... Till the sun grows cold... And the stars grow old."

Harry grinned at her and hugged her tightly. He didn't want to go back. Surely Dumbledore understood that he had someone who loved and cherished him here?

Godric had come over next to them--everyone else was gone, including Tobias, who had waved to Harry as Redbird dragged him back to his room. "Rowena, is it wise... to allow him to stay? If those from his home are looking so desperately..."

"Then where were they when Harry needed them?" Rowena demanded, a fury in her that Harry had only seen in Mrs. Weasley--a mother's fury. "When those foul relatives hurt him? Where were they then, Godric?!" She looked at Harry and back at Godric, who looked angry at the idea of what Harry had gone through as well.

"We can try to reason with them..." Godric murmured before shaking his head, "No... ye hath though of that, haven't ye?"

"This man came and tried to take Harry, in secret, without any thought of what he or we would have wanted." Rowena ran a hand through Harry's messy black hair. "Reason? With a being like that? I do not think that would work, my friend."

"Godric," Harry whispered, "Please..."

"Child," Godric murmured, looking Harry directly in the eyes, "I would never force ye to return if ye did not want to. I do not, however, think that this man will stop. Doth ye know him?"

"Yes." Harry looked down, "His name is Albus Dumbledore--he's the Headmaster from my time." Harry swallowed hard, remembering everything that he could about the man, "He's famous for his work in alchemy and a lot of people consider him to be the greatest wizard of our time. The man who killed my parents, he's scared of Dumbledore."

Godric nodded and looked at Rowena, "Then we shall have to be prepared. I shall talk to Salazar."

"Harry, child," Rowena murmured, "I would feel comfortable if ye were with someone at all times... but this is not a prison. Doth ye desire that?"

"Yeah... I know you don't mean it like a prison, Rowena, you're just worried about my safety." Harry smiled and shook his head, "I'll have to get used to the language again too..."

"That is a small concern," Godric said, shrugging. "I shall see ye both in the morning." With this he left. After a few moments, Rowena and Harry went to their chambers, Rowena casting a spell that combined their rooms. Harry collasped onto his bed, but he couldn't sleep. He lay awake, listening to the scratching of Rowena's quill as she wrote, when a soft knock rung out on the door.

"Come in," Rowena said softly. "Hello Salazar."

"It isn't too late, Ravenclaw." Salazar's voice sounded exhausted. "Send him back to where he hails from and--"

"He saved thy life, Salazar." Rowena said quietly. A long time passed before she said, "Ye art frightened of him."

Harry forced himself not to laugh at the thought--Salazar Slytherin, scared of him? Ha!

"Nonsense--" Harry could hear the amusement in Salazar's voice as well at the thought.

Rowena sighed and Harry could picture her fixing Salazar with her usual stare, "Salazar... ye art scared at the thought that ye may forget Christopher because of thy attachment to Harry."

Christopher? Harry racked his brain before remembering that Salazar's brother had been named Christopher--the one that Rowena's brother had killed...

"I..." Salazar trailed off and Harry could barely hear him, "He even looks like him, Rowena..."

"Then stop fighting thy heart. He is not Christopher and I do not believe he is attempting to replace him." The scratching of her quill on paper once more.

"How can ye remain so balanced? After everything..." Salazar sighed and said, "After everything that has been done to ye, how hath ye managed to stand so strong?"

Rowena chuckled and murmured, "Perhaps ye needs this more than I, Salazar."

"Ye hath been scribbling again, I see." The man moved or something, and the next thing Harry heard was his voice reading what Rowena had written:

"Three passions have governed my life: The longings for love, the search for knowledge,

And unbearable pity for the suffering of humankind.

Love brings ecstasy and relieves loneliness. In the union of love I have seen In a mystic miniature the prefiguring vision Of the heavens that saints and poets have imagined.

With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of people. I have wished to know why the stars shine.

Love and knowledge led upwards to the heavens, But always pity brought me back to earth; Cries of pain reverberated in my heart Of children in famine, of victims tortured And of old people left helpless. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, And I too suffer.

This has been my life; I found it worth living..." Salazar's voice trailed off and softly, he mumured, "Rowena, this is... magnificent."

Harry nodded in silent agreement, the words reverberating through his mind. Magnificent... and it allowed him to see that Rowena understood him better than he thought. Her words were a magic all their own...

"Ye hath thy architecture, Godric hath his experiments, Helga hath her embrodiery... and I hath my writing." Rowena thought for a moment, "I wonder, then, what Harry has to help him..."

"Hm." Salazar mused for a bit, then said, "He constantly watches the skies. Perhaps he desires to fly. There is that spell we have worked on, with the broomsticks..."

Harry didn't dare to hope--he would love to be able to fly again, but he didn't want to make them go out of their way...

"Perhaps ye are correct, Salazar. I shall ask him tomorrow." With this, Harry could hear Rowena stand up and walk towards her room.

"Ravenclaw."

"Hm?"

"... Why did ye state that ye were a Muggleborn?"

Harry could hear the honest confusion in Rowena's voice, "Because I am, Salazar."

"Ye art related to Myrddin Wyllt."

"I do not desire to relate personal matters, but... rest assured, my cousin would be considered a Muggleborn by thy standard as well."

Harry forced himself to think, through the hazy memories of his history class (making a mental note to sleep less in it) and remembered--Merlin was called by a lot of names... including Satanspawn. Some believed him sired of a demon. But Harry had met the man, and he seemed nice enough, despite whomever his parents were.

"Art thou mad? The man is powerful beyond measure! He hath the ability to create his own bloodline!"

Rowena sighed and shook her head, "Salazar, ye discuss people and families as if ye were breeding horses."

"Did my father know?"

"Of course. I never hid my lineage, old friend. Perhaps ye just never bothered to look or listen to my words." Rowena's voice didn't change, but Harry felt something behind these words that he hadn't felt before, "But Harry is my child, Salazar, in every sense of the word except the one that doth not count. And because of this fact, Myrrdin considers him family as well."

"... I understand."

Understood what? Harry didn't understand anything! What was Salazar up to? Did Rowena agree with him? Harry shifted his position in his bed, thinking, almost asleep, when another thought came to mind that made him instantly wide awake again.

How was he going to get Godric by himself to ask about why he looked so uncomfortable in the Great Hall?


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Good Lord, it's been a long time. Um... sorry! But thanks for all the reviews in between my updating! Onto the next chapter, I hope you like!  
**

**Chapter 12**

Harry lay in his bed for a few more moments before giving up on sleeping. He stood up and stopped at his doorway―if he left, then a spell from the future might grab him again. But he had to talk to Salazar...

He walked over to Rowena's room and knocked on her door. "Come in," she said immediately. Harry quenched his guilt and entered. She had a bit of fire in her hands so she could see. "Childling? What is it?"

"Rowena, I need to talk to Godric," Harry said quietly. "But..."

She smiled and stood up, "I understand. And I am glad you woke me." The two left their chambers, walking through the dark, silent hallways of Hogwarts. Harry stayed silent, as did Rowena. He didn't know what to do―before, he would've done almost anything to get back to his time. Now... he'd do anything to stay in this one! But Godric _knew_ something, and Harry had a feeling that it would be important.

Harry recognized Godric's door, but Rowena politely knocked for him.

"Hm?" Harry could hear Godric grumbling sleepily.

"Godric, open up please," said Rowena, glancing around. Harry felt anger in his insides―she shouldn't _have _to be worried about him. Everything had been fine until Dumbledore had jumped in. Rowena was right―they all needed him but none of them had been there for Harry when he had needed them. If they had been, he would've have been in this time to begin with!

Godric opened his door, and Harry could see that he was surprised to see them. "Lad? Rowena, what―?"

"In," Rowena gently pushed Harry in front of her and entered into the room herself, shutting the door behind her. "Go on, Harry."

"Godric..." Harry didn't know how to get his question out. He was tempted to just leave the matter alone now.

He should have guessed Rowena wouldn't do that, though. "Godric, old friend... doth ye know something about the attempt on taking Harry away?"

Godric remained silent for a bit, then said, "I brought Harry here due to a mistake in one of my experiments."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "But in the Great Hall, you looked like you knew something."

"The man you spoke of," Godric murmured. "I knew someone very similar looking, with the same surname."

Harry repressed a groan. So it might not have been the Headmaster from his time.

"He too is an Alchemist," Godric explained. "It may have been a rival, trying to strike us by taking Harry."

"Why?" Rowena asked, obviously curious as to the intent.

"He and his wife desire to create a school as well, but not near here," Godric explained. "I do not know for sure, however."

"... I don't understand this at all," Harry said softly. "Why would anyone from this time want to take me away? I'm not one of you four, I don't know anything about making a school."

Rowena gently hugged him and Harry sighed, leaning against her.

"It may also be that the spell used to bring Harry here... was only temporary," Godric said softly.

Harry looked at the man, unsure of what to say. "So... you don't know which of the three it is? If it's the spell, this other guy trying to sabotage Hogwarts or Dumbledore trying to get me back."

"I am afraid I do not," Godric answered, looking ashamed. "That is why I looked odd, lad. I do not like not knowing if the fault is mine."

Rowena smiled and shook her head, "Foolish man." When both Harry and Godric stared at her, she continued, "If it is someone trying to drag Harry against his will back, we can be prepared and fight him. If it is this saboteur, then we can trick or defeat him. As for the spell... ye can take a look and determine this."

"Unfortunately, I do not know alchemy well enough to recognize the offending character offhand," admitted Godric quietly.

"We shall learn it together, then, we three." Rowena smiled, "Myrddin shall assist so long as he is here."

Harry nodded, and another thought struck him, "What about the students? We can't spend a lot of time on this with them needing lessons."

Godric and Rowena mused for a bit, and Godric said, "We shall explain the situation to the others―we can say the alchemy spell is why Harry does not remember much before he came here, without explaining the era differences. We shall learn in rounds, so that when any of us are not busy, we will be looking. The students will be learning as well. I'm sure some of them will become attached to ye as a teacher." He gave Harry a grin, "Ye hath someone who admires ye already."

"I do?" Harry blinked, trying to think of who it could be.

Rowena smiled, "Not many beings hath the courage to stand up to William Malfoy. I believe his son Tobias may have been inspired by ye."

"By me? Why?" Harry asked, confused.

"Because of thy youth," Godric answered. "Thy are young, yet ye stood up to his father and are teaching. Ye art proof that age doth not mean one cannot be brave."

Harry blushed at that. Of all the things to be admired for... he wouldn't have thought that standing up to a Malfoy would be the reason.

"Is that all ye needed to ask, child?" Rowena inquired. "It is rather late..."

"Oh!" Harry nodded, "Sorry, Godric."

"Tis no problem," Godric said. "I shall escort both of ye back." The three left Godric's chambers, walking. "Harry, thy hath no trouble with basic magicks, correct?"

"Not really, as long as I have a wand," Harry said, glancing at the spare one he had used occasionally. It had been a gift from Helga, left in the room she had helped him make.

"Excellent. Then ye shall be teaching charms," Godric said.

"All right..." Harry smiled, trying not to show his nervousness. He entered his room when they reached it and drifted to sleep.

Far too soon, at least to Harry, Rowena was gently shaking him awake. "Tis time for breakfast, lad."

"Ugh," Harry groaned, taking a shower and getting ready for the day ahead of him. He followed Rowena to the Great Hall, keeping his nervousness hidden. None of the students were there yet, though all of the adults in the castle were. Harry remembered that they had agreed that the students would benefit from having to learn their own way around, so there would be no guides. However, because of this, students would be allowed to be late or even miss their class if they were lost. If it happened too often, they would get a guide for a day or two.

Harry sat in his spot, at the center of the head table. He stared at the porridge in front of him, remembering what had happened the last time he had been in the Great Hall. Eventually, most of the students showed up, grinning at having found the Great Hall. Tobias was there, and he grinned cheerfully up at Harry until a fellow student began talking to him. Harry smiled―it seemed Hogwarts would be good for Tobias. He glanced over at the Slytherins―they were sitting upright, silent... it looked quite uncomfortable.

He signaled to Salazar, apologizing to Redbird as he did so. "What is it, Harry?" Salazar inquired, curious. Harry rarely interrupted conversations, especially during meals.

"Thy students." Harry indicated them, "I understand they have different mannerisms, but it might be beneficial if they speak to each other, at least." It was just too... _weird_ to have an entire House being utterly silent.

Salazar stared at Harry for a moment, confused―he spoke during meals... but as he stared at his students, he understood what Harry meant. His students sat silent, only speaking to ask for a dish to be passed to them. Children were usually taught to be seen, not heard, but this was a different environment. "Make a speech. They are not the only table with a lot of students remaining silent."

Harry glanced around and nodded―he hadn't noticed because the Slytherins had been obvious, but Salazar was right. A _lot_ of the students were silent. Sighing, he stood up, making even the small bits of conversation cease, among adults and students.

"Good morning." Replies, of course, stating the same back. "Hogwarts is an academia of learning. One such way of doing so is to learn from each other." Harry looked at all of the tables and gave them a smile, "A simple way to get to know each other is to speak to each other. Introduce thyselves, perhaps give a bit of information about thy background and thy expectations of this academia. Respect and manners are important, but so is knowing that all of ye have expectations and are eager to learn." With that, Harry sat back down. A few silent seconds passed before the students all began to speak to their Housemates.

The adults left the Great Hall, separating to go to their teaching areas.

Harry was relaxing in his classroom, reading a book about transfiguration when he noticed the rustle of people in the hallway.

"Room 113. I think this is it."

"Hmph. Mudbloods know nothing about reading or fashion, with a foolish raven on thy robes."

"And ye think ye know so much, fool?"

Joy. Slytherins and Ravenclaws, from the sound of the two outside. Harry shrugged and waited for them to let themselves in. After a few moments of arguing, someone opened the door and stared at Harry, who indicated for the boy to sit.

"Er, Malfoy? I do think it is Room 113," the boy said, interrupting the argument.

"What makes ye say that, Pavlides?"

"Because Professor Wyllt is telling me to come in and sit."

Utter silence from the group outside, and quickly, the students scrambled in, sitting down. Harry stood up finally, looking at them. He remembered one of the spells Rowena had taught him, and hoped that it worked as he _focused_ and snapped his fingers. Textbooks appeared in front of every student, and Harry grinned as they stared at the books and back at Harry. The smirk on Orion's face, that had been there since the boy had walked in, slowly faded.

"Ye art here to learn Charms," Harry said, keeping his voice soft and low. He knew that the two strictest teachers he had in school had mastered this art and he would do the same. "It may appear simple, but charms can be complex, challenging, and, if done incorrectly, dangerous. Specifics and wording are extremely important in this bit of magic." With this, Harry waved his hand at the board, glad his students didn't know how hard he was focusing on doing these tasks without a wand. He didn't want any of them to think think they could take him in a fair duel or anything similar. "Those are the wand movements ye shall need. We will be working on the levitation charm." Another snap of his fingers and a lot of focusing, and the feathers were on the students' desks. The Slytherins seemed to share odd looks, and Harry had a strong suspicion that it was because he wasn't speaking or using his wand to make these items appear. They didn't cause any trouble though, practicing the wand movements and trying to levitate the feathers.

Harry was relieved by how well the lesson went, and Celia, one of Rowena's student, managed to make her feather hover a few inches. They left to their next class, talking to each other excitedly, and some of the Slytherins even smiled at Harry as they thanked him and left.

When the classroom was empty, Harry slumped against his chair. Those wandless silent spells had taken a lot out of him.

"Ye did well," Salazar's voice rang from the door, and Harry looked up at him. "Though I do think ye may have overdone the wandless magicks." He entered and handed Harry a vial of a reddish potion with a bit of gray within it. "I thought ye might have, so I made a restoration potion."

"Thank ye," Harry said, sipping it. He felt energy returning as soon as he sipped, and he drained the vial in a hurry.

"Godric was telling us about a spell error," Salazar said quietly. "He believes it may have brought ye here."

"We spoke last night," Harry said, wondering what the man was getting at.

Salazar nodded, and eventually said, "Harry, I do not know what ye art hiding, but I will let you know I hath been keeping watch. Something is coming, and it wants ye." The man shook his head and stared back at Harry, "Ye know this."

"Ye hath stated it many times," Harry replied. "I would be a fool if I did not."

"Yes." Salazar said quietly. He remained silent for a bit and then continued, "When ye appear in my visions, there is always an hourglass by ye. Countless images, but always an hourglass... and its sand dips lower every time." He looked at Harry, "Last night, it was near empty. And that bee creeps closer to the flower..."

Harry knew what it meant. His time was running out. He looked at Salazar, eyes hard, and said, "Doth ye still want me gone?"

Salazar shook his head, "Nay. I thought I would be pleased, but I... I was wrong about ye, Harry. And for that... I apologize. Whatever may happen, ye shall always have a place here."

Harry just nodded, unable to properly thank the man, who just smiled and left the room. After a few moments, Harry did so himself, crashing right into Myrrdin, who chuckled.

"Making sure that ye were not alone," the elderly wizard explained.

"Thank ye," Harry said, walking with the man. "Myrrdin?"

"Hm?"

"Once, ye told me that I would need thy help if I wanted to go home."

Myrrdin smiled at Harry and said quietly, "That was before I knew which era was considered that for ye."

Harry smiled and walked, lost in thought. Could he really give up everything back in his time for this one? Nodding to passing students, glancing at Myrrdin who was telling them which way to their next class, and just _thinking_ about if he could live the rest of his life here...

And in his heart, Harry knew the answer was yes. Yes, he could live here, with people who respected and loved him... yes, he could.

So when the tall person garbed in a hooded cloak appeared at the end of the hallway, Harry knew he would have to be ready to fight.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Salutations! Once again, thanks for the reviews! Onto some answers: the pipes, I figured they'd have stuck with the Roman piping system and rigged it a bit. The shower was my own addition—we know they have tubs in Hogwarts (book 4, when Harry was in the Prefect's bathroom), so I figured it wasn't that far a leap. As for the porridge... um, I didn't really think about what type it was. I just figured humans have been eating grains for a long time, so... er... it can be whichever you'd like. As for the tall man... well, you'll just have to keep reading, won't you? ;)**

**Chapter 13**

The person in the hooded cloak stood at the other end of the hallway. Harry didn't move, and Myrrdin had noticed the person as well. The students were staring, confused—was this another teacher?

"Please say that the stranger is friendly with ye," Harry said to Myrrdin. He tightened his grip on his spare wand.

"I can honestly say," Myrddin said, "that I have no idea who that is."

"Lovely."

By then, the person had begun walking towards Harry and the next thing either of them knew, the person had vanished. Harry looked around, confused, until an arm grasped his waist.

"Harry!" Myrddin was trying to get off a spell on the being, but couldn't because of the way Harry was being held. Harry twisted and turned, trying to get free. He took a look at the person holding him. He was thin, but stronger than Harry would've expected. He had long gray hair and a beard, and Harry could make out blue eyes behind his glasses... but he had never seen this man before.

"Let go of me!" Harry said, trying hard to break free so he could use a spell. It was no use—the man's grip was like a steel clamp or something. He shot off a spell at Myrddin, which was dodged, and kept backing up, never letting go of Harry.

Harry looked around as the man ran, racking his brain, trying to think... when he remembered a spell. It didn't have to be pointed at the guy to work. _"Serpensortia!"_Harry shouted. A loud bang sounded and a large snake appeared, _"Serpensortia!"_ Harry repeated, causing another snake to appear. Looking at the snakes, he said,_"Get this man away from me!"_

The snakes didn't hesitate, wrapping themselves around the man's ankle's quickly. "A Parselmouth?!" The man exclaimed, twisting away from the snakes, but losing his grip on Harry in the process.

Harry backed away from the man, pointing his wand directly at the hooded stranger, who had already made the snakes disappear. "Who are you?" Harry demanded, glaring.

The man merely shrugged, "That's none of your concern, Mr. Potter. You need to go back home."

"I am home!" So this was someone from his time. Who _was_ this person?

The man sighed deeply and shook his head, "_Incarcerous." _Immediately, thick ropes wrapped themselves around Harry, _"Expelliarmus." _The man easily caught Harry's spare wand and gazed at the boy who struggled angrily.

"You can't do this!" Harry shouted, trying to break free.

"I'm truly sorry, but this has to be done." The man went to lift Harry and slowly stopped as he realized there was a sword pressed to his back... and now a rather large, sharp dagger at his throat from someone standing behind him.

"Release him," Rowena's voice said softly. Harry looked up, having been so busy trying to break free that he hadn't noticed her standing behind the hooded man. Said man looked rather nervous now, and Harry grinned.

"... He doesn't belong here--"

The dagger pressed harder, and Harry saw a bit of blood. She was serious about this. "I said to release him."

The stranger's hand on his wand tightened and he vanished. Harry looked around widely, a bit scared, and stared in shock as Rowena threw the dagger at him, cutting the ropes binding him, and seemed to slash at nothing with a rapier... until Harry heard a grunt and saw the man holding his waist. Harry managed to wriggle free from the ropes and grab the dagger, running behind Rowena, who stood staring at the man.

"How..." he said softly, staring at her. "How could you sense me?"

Rowena said nothing, her hand gripping Harry's tightly.

"_Stupefy," _ Harry heard Helga say, but the man dodged the spell easily.

The hooded man looked at Harry and vanished once again. And somehow, Harry knew that though the man was finished for today, he would be meeting the man again... and probably sooner rather than later.

"Did he hurt ye?" Rowena demanded, inspecting Harry thoroughly, Helga next to her.

"I'm fine," Harry said, as both women checked over him. Fine physically, maybe, but not mentally. That man had been from _his_ time and had known his real name. But that didn't mean anything—Harry was famous in his time. Anyone could come back from then and know his name...

A hand on his shoulder made Harry look into Rowena's worried eyes. He smiled, "I'm fine, Rowena, honestly."

She hugged him close, and Harry returned the embrace. Helga smiled at them and looked up as a bunch of students ran over.

"Professor Ravenclaw, Professor Hufflepuff, Professor Wyllt... is everything well?" Tobias asked, a few other Gryffindor students with him.

Harry looked at them, free from his embrace, and nodded, a bit confused as to why they were there.

"We heard ye," Helga explained. "I ran ahead, but they kept up for quite a while."

"We saw that spell ye did, Professor," one of the other female students said, staring at Harry in awe. "Ye summoned snakes to attack that man!"

"I would have been to frightened to think," one of the others said, and the students nodded in agreement, staring at Harry, which made him blush. He wasn't much older than any of the students here, but from the way they stared at him... sometimes it made him wonder if they viewed him in the same way as they looked at the Founders!

"Well..." Harry said, unsure of how to proceed, but Helga saved him.

"Professor Wyllt is fine. Back to class, the lot of ye!" She bustled the students away and smiled at Harry and Rowena as they left. Soon, Harry and Rowena were alone in the hallway.

"Rowena?" Harry asked, as they walked towards their chamber—Rowena's class wasn't until later, and Harry only had one for the day.

"Hm?"

"Why... why'd you use a sword and not magic?"

"We, as magical beings, rely heavily on magic," Rowena said softly. "It surprises our fellows when we do not. The man who had ye knew that we could not use spells on him."

"Because they would hit me," Harry said quietly, looking down, feeling a bit ashamed.

"He acted as a thief would, in stealth, without honor. Ye hath nothing to be ashamed of," Rowena murmured. "I relied on my blade because I knew I could use it without hurting ye."

Harry nodded and then said, "That makes sense."

"Indeed it does," Rowena replied, smiling.

"I don't want to rest just yet."

"No?" Rowena seemed a bit surprised, and Harry could understand that. He had just had quite a day after all, and he knew Rowena was worried for him. But he also knew he had to be ready for when—not if, _when—_the man came back.

"I need to work on my spells," Harry said. "I might have been able to stop him from taking me back when he first appeared if I had known how."

Rowena slowly nodded and said, "Then we shall work on spells. Come." With this, they switched courses and went to the Keep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

They were in the Keep, Harry trying to not think about the man, his time, and anything else that might distract him from learning. Rowena smiled at him, trying not to show how worried she was. The door swung open, revealing Myrddin. "I thought ye might need assistance," he explained.

"Thanks," Harry said quietly. The three began to practice different dueling spells, until it was time for Rowena to teach. Harry continued working with Myrddin, not just spells now, but different physical movements as well. Harry had seen how Rowena had taken down the man without using magic, and he wanted to be able to do the same.

A knock on the door made the two look up—it was evening already. "Come in!" Harry called.

Redbird opened the Keep door, "Tis time for supper, gentlemen."

Myrddin smiled, "Thank ye. Lad, I shall see ye in the Great Hall." With this, Myrddin left the Keep. Harry looked at Redbird, who smiled at him.

The action made Harry curious; why was she being nice to him? Redbird didn't like Rowena or himself. "Doth ye feel well?" Harry asked, both concerned and suspicious.

"I am," Redbird said, obviously amused. "I did not know Salazar owed ye a life debt."

_What did that have to do with anything? _"And what of it?" Harry asked, remembering that Salazar had once mentioned he didn't want to give up his firstborn child.

"Please do not pretend that ye art a simpleton," Redbird replied, giving Harry a slightly-exasperated look. "Ye know that means I owe ye a great debt as well."

Harry stared at her, "What? Why?" Before she could say something about him being a simpleton, Harry quickly added, "I've never had experience with a life debt, so I honestly know nothing about them."

"Life debts carry onto the individual's family," Redbird said quietly. "Ye saved Salazar, and until the debt is repaid... he may save ye dozens of times, but it may not be repaid until ye deem it repaid. And ye cannot just erase the debt—it shall remain through the years if ye never collect."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning, childling, that our family would be in debt to thy bloodline. And due to the length of time, it would increase, becoming greater, much like interest on a loan." Redbird looked at Harry, "I desire to hath a family with the man I love, Wyllt. Thus, disrespecting the young man he owes his life to... would be most dishonorable."

Harry thought for a bit, and realized that neither Redbird nor Salazar had insulted Rowena since he had saved Salazar's life. They were honoring their end of it, but Harry honestly couldn't think of a way for him to collect...

Wait. The boy slowly stared at Redbird, "The bloodline continues the debt, ye said?"

"...Yes..." Redbird looked a bit thrown-off by the question.

_Voldemort was Salazar's descendant_. But Harry didn't want to go back to his time—but if he started a family in this time, he could leave some instructions about it... maybe something like _"unless the Slytherin bloodline has a dark lord trying to take over the world, the Wyllt bloodline is to not collect on the life debt" _or something...

"I see... thank ye," Harry said quietly. "Let's get some supper."

Redbird walked with him, "How did ye enjoy teaching?" She asked, making conversation. Harry was grateful for her breaking the silence.

"I really liked it," Harry admitted. "It felt good knowing I was making a difference. And ye?"

"I felt similarly," Redbird replied, "though historical events do not seem as difficult as teaching incantations and charms."

"I suppose," Harry said, shrugging, and both of them stopped, seeing the figure appear at the end of the corridor.

"This would be the man who attempted to take ye?" Redbird inquired, her wand already in her hand and pointing at him.

"Yes," Harry said darkly, his wand pointing at the man as well. "That's him."

Redbird said a spell Harry didn't know, but the man blocked it and used another spell, one that Harry couldn't make out, but it made Redbird fly back, and Harry could see her bleeding.

"Georgina!" Harry shouted, trying to run to her, but he was immobilized from the neck down. "Let me _go!_" He snapped at the man, who was coming towards him.

"..." The man stared at them for a few seconds before saying softly, "This is not your time, Mr. Potter."

"Who _are _you?!" Harry demanded, angrily. "You can't just do this!"

The man gave a wan smile and pulled out something—it looked like an hourglass. "NO!" Harry shouted. He knew, somehow, that this man would be bringing him back with that thing...

"Lad?! Lady Redbird?!" Harry could see Godric running towards them, shooting spells towards the mystery man.

"Godric, _help!_" Harry shouted, but the mystery man had already disarmed and had grabbed him. He was turning the hourglass, and Harry could see things around them fading—it was as if he was going through a tunnel or something. "No! NO! I want to stay here!" He tried to struggle, to fight, and he could see Rowena, faintly, like an outline... She lunged...

She grabbed his ankle, and the man kicked at her, making her lose her grip and fall backwards. Harry cried out, wanting to go to her, to help her...

"Rowena!" Harry shouted. He looked at the person who was dragging him. "Why?"

"You are needed," the man said quietly. "I was told you'd be taken care of."

"I was taken care of here, not in our time! Who told you to bring me back?!"

"My brother," the man said quietly. "We're here."

Harry looked around—they were in Dumbledore's office. Right now, Harry hated the Headmaster more than anything. _He_ had to have sent this man after him.

The Headmaster entered the room from a side door, wearing dark red robes with gold trim. Harry glared at him, fury etched into the thirteen-year-old's features. The silvery light from the night sky illuminated Dumbledore's face, and it struck Harry suddenly how very old he was looking. He knew, of course, that the headmaster was getting on in years, but somehow he never really thought of Dumbledore as an old man... not until that moment, anyway. It didn't really matter, though; Harry had _trusted_ him, and the elderly man had broken that trust, had sent someone to take him away.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore said, giving the boy a warm smile. At the intensified glare (which Harry had learned from Salazar and Redbird), the headmaster sighed and looked at the mystery person, causing Harry to glance over—why the man was glaring at Dumbledore too? "Thank you, Aberforth."

"He'll be staying with his friend, won't he? The Weasley boy's family? Shouldn't we tell them that he's back, then?" Aberforth said without preamble. Harry's heart soared—he'd be living with the Weasleys? They treated him like family... it'd almost be like Rowena and the others again.

"I'm afraid Harry will have to remain with his relatives—" Dumbledore began.

"What?" The man looked furious. "You said you'd change things if I'd go get him—that you were too busy making sure the children were safe from Sirius Black, that was why you couldn't go. I only brought him back because you said you'd make sure he was cared for!"

Harry stared at the two brothers, and Dumbledore sighed, "I'm afraid you must have gotten the wrong idea—"

Aberforth spat at his brother's feet, causing Dumbledore to stare at him and Harry to gape open-mouthed, "I should have known. I thought you had changed, that you finally cared about someone besides yourself. I was a fool." He looked at Harry, "I'm sorry. I thought..."

"It's not your fault," Harry said quietly. Could he really blame this man, when he really had thought he was doing the right thing? If he had been going with the Weasleys, Harry knew he'd be singing with joy right now! No... this man, Aberforth, if he had had his way, would have brought Harry to a good home in his proper time. Harry looked at the headmaster, "Why are you sticking me with the Dursleys?"

"Harry, you'll be here at Hogwarts, classes have already begun, people have been quite worried—"

Aberforth just stared at him and said, "Albus, you're pathetic. I should have known you wouldn't keep your word. You couldn't be a decent guardian to her, and now you're failing another child." With that, Aberforth nodded to Harry and left the office, slamming the door behind him. Harry slumped, sighing in relief as the immobilization spell was removed.

"Harry, please try to understand—"

The boy was having none of it. He, like Aberforth had, left the office, slamming the door behind him. He stomped all the way up to Gryffindor Tower. It was completely empty... everyone must be in class.

And it was there, as he lay on his four-poster bed, in the silent, empty dormitory, that Harry wept at long last for everything he had lost.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

After a long while, Harry groaned, rolled over on his bed and looked around. He must have fallen asleep while or after crying. His roommates were all dozing, their snores distinct and loud in the dark, silent room. Slowly, Harry sat up and heaved a small sigh. Crying was stupid, he knew that it didn't help anything, but he hadn't been able to help it. Sitting now, Harry saw his trunk at the foot of his bed. Well, at least he had his stuff... wait; his stuff! He quickly went to the trunk and took out his invisibility cloak. He _had_ to know what had happened after he was taken, and the library would, hopefully, have the answers to all of his questions.

Silent as a mouse, unseen due to the cloak, Harry crept through the quiet halls that were lit by the flickering candles on the walls. He soon reached the library, a simple spell opening the doors and allowing him to slip in unnoticed. He didn't take off the cloak; instead he went to the librarian's desk and found a lantern. Lighting it with a spell, staying under the cloak, Harry went to the history section and winced. It was obvious this area was only touched to be cleaned. Binns _really_ made people hate history... Shaking his head, amused at the thought, harry scanned through the titles, stopping at the massive tome that was "Hogwarts: A History, Unabridged Edition, Book One." Harry looked at the shelf—there were _lots_ of "Hogwarts: A History" books.

Well, that explained a lot—Hermione must have been lugging around the abridged edition. Grunting at the weight of the first book, Harry eventually managed to get it to the closest table. Blowing the dust off, Harry suddenly realized how hungry he was. Well... it wouldn't be the first or last time he had gone without food. Life with the Dursleys had taught Harry how to handle that much, at least. Mentally tightening his belt, Harry opened the book and began searching the table of contents. After some time of looking, he found the section dedicated to the Founders. Flipping through the pages as fast as he dared, Harry finally began to read.

_Though the Founders Four were indeed the main force behind the building of the Academia of Hogwarts, others had a profound impact as well. Families that allowed their children to experience a new form of education, and the other teachers; also the great Lord Merlin; the future wife of Salazar Slytherin, Georgina Redbird; and the young man who is regarded as the first Headmaster of Hogwarts, the ward of Rowena Ravenclaw, Harry Wyllt._

Harry stared at the entry again; the first HEADMASTER?! He hadn't been the Headmaster! He looked at the sections again—sure enough, there it was... he looked at the bit about himself

_Headmaster Harry Wyllt set a few basic guidelines in the short time he was Headmaster. Before he was taken away by an unknown person, he began the tradition of making sure the four Heads of House would remain equal. He also began the tradition of the Headmaster making announcements after the first meal, not before it. He also defended students, protecting them even from their own families; the third Headmaster, Tobias Voie (formerly Malfoy, discarded name, see more under Headmaster Voie) had fond memories of Wyllt._

_Wyllt also set the standard of all students having equality, despite the fact he was Ravenclaw's ward. He earned the respect of the students on his own terms. All four of the Founders respected and liked the young man. Many believe his disappearance was one of, if not the main reason, the four friends split paths. His disappearance caused arguments, due to the fact there was none to even out the balance or form a definite majority. Slytherin left a few months after the younger man, and Hufflepuff married soon after and left as well._

_Ravenclaw took in another child, one of her students, but when she didn't arrive at her deathbed, the founder dedicated everything in her will to Wyllt. She forgave the other ward for stealing the diadem, a gift from a relative, but did not leave her anything. _

_Ravenclaw's last words are also believed to be for Wyllt: "I shall miss thee, yet thou shalt have freedom and my blessing, forever and always, until the end of time... my ward, my heir, my son."_

Harry couldn't take it. He forced himself not to cry, but he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to rage, rant, shout, something, _anything_ for what had been taken from him. But none of those things would help. He had to think, now, before acting rashly. He was angry, hurt, everything, but he wouldn't let people get the benefit of seeing him like this. He wouldn't let Dumbledore see that he was hurting. The man would just keep trying to make Harry "understand." And Harry understood perfectly: his wellbeing didn't mean a thing to anyone, except maybe Aberforth. The man had brought him forward only because he thought Harry would be taken care of in his time too. But he had been wrong, apparently—the Headmaster was sticking Harry back with the Dursleys after this.

How could this be possible? He had been the first _Headmaster _for goodness sakes! And to just be thrown back with the Dursleys... he had fought Voldemort twice, had helped build the school...

He couldn't dwell on the unpleasant things. Harry knew if he kept thinking and asking why, it'd eat him up inside. But he could continue his studies. He'd have to. He would learn and study and force himself to be better than he had been. Forcing himself to read more, he continued.

_Gryffindor was the last of the four founders to remain at Hogwarts. His will, like Ravenclaw's, left everything to Wyllt; he had no children of his own. His last words, also like Ravenclaw's, are believed to be for the young man: "__Draco Dormiens Numquam Titillandus... The keys..."_

_None have been able to figure out what Gyffindor meant. The motto of Hogwarts is clear, but other than that, Gryffindor's final words remain very curious indeed. None have been able to find the keys left to Headmaster Wyllt either, and some scholars believe the keys Gryffindor spoke of were these. The remainder of the young Headmaster Wyllt's life remains a mystery._

Rowena had given him his freedom and her blessing, knowing she would never see him again. But Godric... what had Godric been trying to tell him? They both knew that he was from the future... Harry sighed. Salazar had been right—he had split the four friends, not by his arrival, but by his disappearance. It saddened the boy, and Harry knew he'd miss the four forever, despite only having been with them a few months.

He looked at Godric's last words again, chuckling remembering the dragon. Never tickle a sleeping dragon...

Wait... Harry stared at the motto and at Godric's last words. He _knew_ the man had been telling him something, but _what_? He had been so accustomed to asking others for help... but not this. This had been for _him_. He had to solve it. Godric wouldn't tell him something he couldn't figure out. Never tickle a sleeping dragon... the keys...

Why would the man bring up the motto? Why mention the dragon incident? Godric wouldn't hide the keys in the dragon's cave, anyone could find them there. Harry shut the huge tome and, after putting it back on the shelf, sat down and sighed. He looked at the pale light of the moon shining in through the stained glass window...

_The window. _He remembered now—the Keep, the window had the five of them... Harry stood up and, after returning the lantern and making sure his cloak was on tightly, returned to his dorm. He would look at the window tomorrow night—he had been out too long tonight, but he wasn't tired.

He went to his trunk and, after placing his invisibility cloak inside, took out his charms textbook and his wand. Somebody had gone shopping for him, then. He went to the common room and, sitting comfortably, began to read, trying out spells with his wand and, after making sure he could do them, began trying them silently and wandlessly. After a few moments, he exhausted himself and thought he'd just shut his eyes for a brief second...

"Oy, you're back!" a voice said, making Harry groan and look around. The Weasley twins were standing near him, obviously worried. "You all right?"

"I've been better," Harry admitted quietly, stretching. "You're up early."

"Gives us time to test stuff, make things, explore," Fred said—Harry could tell them apart now by their wands.

"Ah," the boy said, standing. "Thanks for waking me up."

"Dumbledore said your relatives took you with them on an extended vacation," George said. "Didn't seem like something they'd do, though, and he wouldn't answer any of our questions."

"Vacation," Harry said, his voice bitter. "The Dursleys wouldn't take me on vacation. I was... time jumped, I think. I got hit with a door and blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was at Hogwarts." That wasn't technically a lie—he had woken up at Hogwarts.

"Well, why didn't he just say that then?" Fred shook his head and shrugged, "You're all right though?"

"Yeah. Going to take a shower and grab some breakfast. Thanks again." Harry watched them leave and he went to his dorm. Everyone was still asleep. He grabbed his clothes for the day and showered, then went to the Great Hall, reading as he munched on some toast.

"So our famous celebrity decided to finally grace us with his presence," Snape's voice said sneeringly from behind him. Harry sighed and slowly turned. There he was, Professor Severus Snape, greasy long hair, black eyes, pale skin, all in black. Some things just wouldn't change; Harry didn't know if that was necessarily a good or bad thing.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry said politely. He wouldn't give Snape or anyone else the benefit of seeing him worked up. He was the first Headmaster, the heir of Rowena and Godric, the person who had saved Salazar, the boy-who-lived, darn it. He wasn't going to fit into the mold anyone else had made for him. Seeing Snape narrow his eyes, Harry somehow knew he'd be in for a long day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Snape stared at Harry for a moment and continued on towards the Head Table. Harry forced himself to not look at the teachers—he was a student now. He forced his thoughts back to the book he was reading. He would focus on what Godric meant later; for now, he had to catch up with his work. It had waited for centuries; it could wait a few more days for Harry to catch up with his work.

As the Great Hall began getting more students, Harry left, not wanting to really be bothered. He hid in an unused classroom until he was sure everyone was in the Great Hall, then left to go get his schoolbag. He put his books in it and began walking to the first classroom, when he froze, seeing the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's ghost. But it wasn't the fact he was there; Harry had seen the ghost many times, but he had never truly _seen_ the ghost...

He stared at the features for a bit, the ghost looking back at him calmly, silently, before leaving. Finally, Harry said to himself, disbelief evident, "Was that _Pavlides?_ Edward Pavlides?!"

The ghost reappeared instantly, staring at Harry, long and hard. "What did you just say, young Gryffindor?" His voice was drawn, bitter... sad. _What happened to him? _Harry didn't know what to say. The ghost stared at the boy, and Harry repressed a shudder. Having a ghost stare at him like that wasn't common—it was like he was looking right _through_ Harry.

Figuring he'd be somewhat honest, Harry said, "I thought... I just thought you were someone I knew, Baron..." The boy shrugged. "I mean, he was younger than me, so no way to be—"

"Repeat the name, young Gryffindor."

Well, that was cutting to the chase. Rather rude too... "Edward Pavlides," Harry said softly.

The ghost said nothing for a long time, staring at Harry—just staring. But when Harry moved, the ghost spoke, "Wait."

"I have to go to class—"

The ghost softly chuckled, "No you don't. I know you now... It has been a long time, Professor... a long time indeed... and you are still a boy, while I should have faded long ago." He laughed, a loud, echoing laugh, and Harry swallowed hard, unsure of how to react, when the ghost continued, "You have a good eye, sir—your guess is correct. So _this_ is where he took you... they hunted high and low for you... and then that dreadful business at Camelot, taking Lady Ravenclaw's cousin away..." Edward shut his eyes, and Harry knew the memories had to hurt, even now.

"I'm sorry..." Harry said softly, "You can't begin to understand how sorry I am... but what _happened_? You're..." Harry gave a wan smile, "Edward... you were a lot of things, but how on earth did you become the Bloody Baron?"

"Children and their nicknames..." the ghost chuckled, amused, and said, "I should be delighted to catch up with you, Professor, but there are a few others here that would love to see you as well... Might I bring you to them? You did say you have class..."

"I do," Harry said softly, sighing. "Look, Edward, you don't have to call me Professor anymore. That was centuries ago."

"I mean no offense, sir, but you will always be known as Professor to me, despite whatever you may be called by others. You were my first teacher here. I shall never forget that." The ghost bowed his head slightly, "Shall we meet here after your classes?"

"Not in a hallway," Harry said, amused. "In that unused classroom, if that would be all right?"

"... Preferably a room with a portrait... perhaps the far end of the library? No students will be there if I am around. It should ensure some privacy." The smile made Harry glad he was now on the ghost's good side... and, truth be told, he was relieved there was _someone_ from that time that knew the truth now. He wouldn't have to hide it constantly.

"That'd be great. I'll see you then!" Harry went to his classroom. It was empty, so he took a seat next to the window and began reading his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. He was surprised... he knew most of these things now. Not from learning them in lessons with Rowena and the others, but from listening to them talk about the wards and things around the school—things he hadn't really paid much attention to. The book just gave Harry more of a thorough understanding of the stuff... Grunting, he adjusted his glasses, mentally cursing the Headmaster once more. It seemed time jumping would undo the spell Rowena had cast on his eyes. _Ciel de render,_ or something similar to that... Harry made a mental note to ask Flitwick about the spell.

A man with shabby robes entered the room. Harry looked up at him. He seemed ill, exhausted, and his light brown hair was already graying even though he didn't seem too old. He stared at Harry, who stared right back, daring this teacher to say something.

"You must be Harry Potter. I was told you had returned," the man said, a smile gracing his face. "I'm the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin."

Harry forced himself to not laugh. There hadn't been a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, not originally. Salazar and Godric had once discussed it while Harry had been eating. They had decided that students wouldn't really learn understanding and innovation with a class like that; they would limit themselves only to the maneuvers and spells that were taught...

He saw the man—Lupin—looking at him. Harry spoke, "Yes, I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

"I'm glad you're early, I'm concerned that you might be a bit behind, you see," Lupin said, making his way towards Harry. The boy sighed, resigning himself to being treated like an idiot who couldn't catch up on his own work without being guided. "We've worked through boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, grindylows and we're on hinkypunks now."

Harry couldn't help himself, "That's it?"

Lupin seemed surprised and he nodded, "Yes."

_Shut up_. Harry thought to himself, but he couldn't help it. "That's more in the field of Magical Creatures class, isn't it? Not really Dark _Arts_ that you're doing, but Dark _Creatures._"

"That is a matter of opinion, of course," Lupin said, looking at Harry oddly now. "Am I to presume you are up to date, Mr. Potter?"

Harry bit back a sarcastic remark. It wasn't this man he was angry at. He was angry at Dumbledore. "Yes, Professor Lupin, I'm up to date and probably ahead. I was looking through the book and I know most of the things in it." Harry remembered his only class—remembered how nervous and worried he was students wouldn't listen... "I won't disrespect you or anything like that, of course, and I won't complain if I do know the materials. But... I hope you won't take it the wrong way if I do another assignment if I know what is being taught."

"No, Mr. Potter," Lupin replied quietly, still staring at Harry strangely. "I won't take offense at all." With that, the man went to his desk and Harry returned to his reading. All too soon, the class began filling up.

"Harry!" Two voices shouted and, without looking up, Harry knew the voices belonged to Ron and Hermione. He looked and saw them as they ran to him.

"How was your vacation?" Ron asked, excited.

"I can't believe Dumbledore was okay with letting you skip so many classes!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry forced himself to remain calm, but he couldn't help it. He shouted, "_Vacation?! _You know what my relatives are like, why the bloody hell would they take me on a vacation!?"

Silence, not only from his two friends, but the entire room, and Ron said, in a small voice, "But... but Dumbledore said..."

"It's time for class," Lupin said quickly, and Harry was sure the man was acting fast to make sure Harry didn't shout again. As he spoke about hinkypunks, Harry looked out of the window. How could they be so _stupid_? Fred and George hadn't believed it, how could his two best friends? _Dumbledore_. It all came back to him. Harry gritted his teeth. Didn't he have enough to worry about without the interference of the Headmaster as well?

Class finished quickly enough, and Harry left the classroom swiftly, heading to History of Magic class. Everyone seemed to be avoiding him after his outburst, and it was just as well; he didn't care what they did. While everyone slept in History, Harry took notes. He wouldn't let Binns stop him from his goal: to learn as much as he could. Hermione kept shooting glances at him—maybe she was surprised that Harry could do his own work. He repressed a smile; it was sad she didn't know him in primary school. He had been top of his class back then... he was glad he didn't have to deal with Dudley and his cronies any more, but Harry knew if anyone compared his secondary school grades to his primary school grades, they wouldn't believe he was the same person.

He had to fix that. After History was lunch, where people kept staring and Harry could hear the whispering about his outburst in Defense class. He ignored it, eating a sandwich and leaving to Herbology. Finally, classes were over. Harry raced to the library, where Edward was waiting with... the Grey Lady?

A voice spoke first, "_Professor Wyllt!_"

Harry looked around and stopped, seeing a painting—and he grinned widely, recognizing the person in it. "Tobias!"

The man in the painting smiled. He still had the messy dark blond hair, dark blue eyes and his skin was still the pale Harry remembered. He looked pretty much identical to his younger self that Harry remembered.

"I'm so glad to see you again, Professor," Tobias said earnestly. "I had hoped, when I saw you before, but your name was different, you were younger, you didn't recognize any of us..."

"It hadn't happened yet," the Grey Lady said. Harry looked at her for a long time and suddenly, he knew.

"Helena Forrester?" Harry smiled; he remembered only because she had been in his class. His only class... he forced the bitter thought away.

"Ravenclaw," Helena said quietly. "Rowena adopted me, formally, and I took her name, Professor."

Harry stared at her for a long time, and he couldn't hide the anger. "You didn't go to her side. She was dying and you wouldn't go to her. She took you in, gave you a name, a home, and you... you just left." Harry looked down, no longer angry, but sad. "You left and I wasn't there. We were both rotten to her."

"You were taken," Helena said quietly. "Professor—"

"I'm not your Professor anymore," Harry said. He looked at Tobias, "Or yours."

"We choose to call you that, sir," the portrait replied.

Harry looked at Helena, "Don't."

"But you will always be Professor Wyllt to us."

"Not to you." Harry smiled, thinking. "I was Rowena's ward too—she called me her son. That makes us brother and sister, right? Please... call me Harry."

The ghost smiled, "I did not think of that relation, my... brother. Very well."

"Professor," Edward interrupted. "Have you figured out who the person who took you away was?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "Tobias knows too, I'll wager."

Tobias nodded, "Albus Dumbledore sent his brother Aberforth. From what I understand, it was under false pretense of wanting to send Harry Potter—Professor Wyllt, as I can now see—to a better home. He lied, though—he intends to keep things the same." Tobias looked at Helena, "He can't do that, can he?"

"Technically..." Helena said quietly. "Harry has no magical guardians... so in this world, the Headmaster can override whatever his relatives say..."

"His godfather can't take custody," Edward said softly.

Harry did a double take, "I have a godfather?"

The three stopped and looked at him. "Professor... don't you know _anything_ about yourself and your family?" Tobias asked, incredulous. "Dumbledore knows all about this, all about things involving you... he never told you?"

"No," Harry said quietly. "But I'm beginning to not be surprised anymore."

Tobias chuckled, "Then _I'll_ tell you... starting from the beginning, if you'd like?"

"Yes, please," Harry said, sitting down. He looked at Edward and Helena, who were glaring at each other. "And after that, I'll listen to whatever history is between you two. I need help, and you're the only ones I can trust now."

Both ghosts seemed ashamed of their actions, and Edward said, "I shall make sure none eavesdrop or come near."

"As shall I," Helena said. Both seemed to vanish, but Harry knew they were still there, just invisible. He looked at Tobias.

The man looked concerned, angry, and happy all mixed together. Seeing Harry look at him worried, he said, "I apologize, sir. I am too angry for words at the actions of the current Headmaster, worried for what shall befall you, and there are no words to express my joy at seeing you once more. It shall take a long time to tell you everything... would you like to get something to eat or drink first?"

Harry smiled and shook his head, "No. Going without is something I can handle."

"Very well." And with that, the portrait began to speak.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Harry was unsure of how to react to everything he had just learned in the span of a few hours. He stared at the table, trying to take it all in, but it was hard. To learn that so much had been hidden from him... and why? The Headmaster would probably say something like it was "for his own good." How hiding the fact Voldemort had killed his family _over a prophecy_ and that his godfather had betrayed them... that Professor Snape had been the one to tell Voldemort... that Voldemort had split his soul and _one part was inside of Harry. _The boy didn't know who to hate or what to even feel at this moment.

And then Helena and Edward's history... poor Rowena, at least she was spared the knowledge of what had happened with the two. It had taken Harry to bring the two ghosts on speaking terms once more—helping him was more important to them, it seemed, than their ancient feud. Harry was grateful for that, though he couldn't blame Helena for hating Edward so much—he _had _killed her, after all, but he didn't really know what to think at the moment. He was currently still processing everything.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Tobias said softly, from his frame. "I should not have sprung that upon you all at once."

"It's fine," Harry replied. "I'd rather be a bit surprised now and have time to process it instead of having it sprung on me when I don't expect it. Running from the truth doesn't help anyone." He paused and said, changing the topic, "So... you changed your name and were the third Headmaster. Who was the second?"

"Professor Redbird was," Tobias said quietly. "I was young when I took over, because she left with her husband." He gave a wan smile, "I started the tradition of the portraits, because I overheard Professors Ravenclaw and Gryffindor talking one night, about you, Professor Wyllt—that you'd come again. So I waited, here in my frame, for that day, and to give advice and see how the school would turn out."

Harry blushed; he was one boy, in the past for a short time and he seemed to have influenced so much... how could one person have managed it? He still wasn't sure.

"Professor," Edward's voice hissed. "Voie."

Tobias vanished from the frame and Harry quickly opened a book. He was just in time, because someone appeared to his left.

"The library is _closing_, Mr. Potter," the librarian was looking at him sternly. "Everyone else heard that announcement twenty minutes ago."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "Thank you, Madam." He stood, taking his things with him. He didn't want to go back to the dorm, and he was hungry, but dinner was over. He stood outside the library doors, putting his things into his bag.

"Harry," Helena said softly, next to him. "I shall show you where they moved the kitchens. You must be hungry."

The boy smiled and nodded, "I'm starved," he muttered quietly, following the ghost. They remained silent, Helena being wise and taking Harry through quiet hallways where no students or teachers were. The two soon reached a portrait of fruit.

"Tickle the pear," she murmured.

Harry did so and it began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. As he seized it and pulled the door open, Harry asked, "Why did they hide the kitchens? People can't really control when they're hungry. Even a light snack before meals can help people, can't it?"

Helena shrugged, "From what I know, Muggles have looked into that before. Hunger, as you said, does distract people."

"Why haven't we implemented that, then?" Harry shook his head. "I'm going to have to stop thinking like someone who has say and just accept things, aren't I?"

"You're the heir of two of the Founders, and you are the Headmaster... were..." Helena slowly stopped and looked at Harry. "Of course... you _are, _technically, still the Headmaster."

"Professor Dumbledore is... he has the title and office..."

Helena indicated for Harry to keep moving, and he went into the kitchen. "WOW!" he exclaimed. It was an enormous, high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, with four long wooden tables that were positioned exactly beneath the four House tables above them. At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying when they saw Harry. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest and tied like a toga.

And suddenly, all activity stopped as they realized _who_ exactly was down there. The elves looked at Helena, who said, "This is Harry Potter. Some of you may remember him as Professor Harry Wyllt." She smiled, "He is also my brother."

"Lady Rowena's son!" an elf exclaimed, excited, and they all crowded around him. "Lord Ravenclaw! Lord Gryffindor!"

Harry looked around and Helena smiled at him. Harry didn't understand why she had said that, but the elves were a flurry of activity, shouting about him and moving hurriedly. Finally, one asked, "Would Professor Wyllt like something to eat?"

"Oh yes," Harry said. "I'm starved." He figured it was pointless to try and convince them about the name, but he had to try. "You don't have to call me Professor—"

"But you is Professor Wyllt!" The elves said, obviously confused. "Why call you something else?"

Sighing, Harry sat at one of the tables and began to eat the food about a dozen elves had brought a few seconds before. Helena came over and said, "As we were discussing outside... just because humans forget and have certain standards does not mean all things do. The school remembers you, I'm sure—building do not have the limited memories of humans. And I'm sure many creatures will as well. You saw how the elves reacted."

"Yeah..." Harry looked at the ghost, "Why did they call me Lord Gryffindor? I can understand the Lord Ravenclaw bit, because of Rowena."

"You are Lord Gryffindor because he left you as his sole heir. He had no children," Helena clarified. She continued, "Haven't you wondered why nobody really spoke of any of the Heirs except for Slytherin's? Hufflepuff's line died a few decades ago... it was sad, truth be told. Rumor has it that her family line left things to you too, should that ever happen, but I don't know if any of her heirs changed it." The ghost gave Harry a wan smile, "The reason why no other heirs were mentioned were, simply, because there were none _to_ mention. That's changed, now that you've returned."

"I don't want that!" Harry shook his head, "I don't want people staring at me even more!"

"I suppose," Helena said thoughtfully. "However, hearing that the heir of two other Founders has returned should give Voldemort a bit of a pause next time." She looked down, and Harry could see the shame and anger on her face. "He deceived me, Harry, and I, like a fool, fell for his lies and tricks. I told him where the diadem was... I betrayed Rowena before by not going to her side, by refusing Edward's hand... and then I betrayed her again by allowing Lord Voldemort to desecrate the only well-known item that was hers."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Harry said quietly. "It's learning from them that helps us, right?" He continued to eat.

Helena nodded, musing over his words. "Perhaps..." She floated around the kitchens, allowing Harry to eat in peaceful silence before returning. "Your classwork... are you far behind?"

"Actually," Harry said quietly, "I'm _ahead_. Has magic really not changed that much since I've been gone?"

"Sadly," Helena said. "Most developments have been in charms, potions, and _broomsticks_." Helena rolled her eyes and Harry chuckled. "I'm sure you've read up on those things, though."

"Yeah," Harry replied, amused. "I didn't want anyone to have an excuse to bother me. They seem to think I'm too stupid to read on my own or something, though. Well, that Lupin guy did, anyway, and I'll bet a Galleon I'll have to sit through tons more of that stuff. I know Snape's definitely going to give me a hard time." He remembered what Tobias had said about the man and sighed, looking at his plate of food morosely. "I'm not just my father's son, Helena... I'm my mother's son too. Is Snape just too blind to see that? I wouldn't be surprised, he was the one stupid enough to run to Voldemort with the information that marked my parents for death."

"Oh dear." Helena murmured quietly, looking up. "The kitchens weren't the smartest place to say that, Harry..."

_Don't say it..._ Harry thought, slowly turning. McGonagall and Snape were standing there, both looking at him. _Oh crap_, the boy thought, seeing their faces. He had been caught, red-handed, basically saying Snape was stupid. But could they really take points away for him when _they_ had intruded onto his discussion?

"Why are you in the kitchens and not in your dorm, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, her voice stern.

Harry thought for a second and said, "I was in the library and didn't have dinner. I figured I'd come here, get something to eat, and return to Gryffindor Tower afterwards, Professor."

"And you decided to talk about people while eating dinner, Potter?" Snape asked, his voice soft and low, quite different from his usual sneer.

"Yes," Harry said shortly, nodding as one of the elves asked about dessert.

"You think that teachers being concerned about how much your vacation—" McGonagall wasn't able to finish before Harry interrupted.

"_I was not on vacation!"_ He roared, furious. Both teachers looked at each other and back at him. "Let me tell you both this now—the Dursleys _hate_ me. They wouldn't spit on me if I was on fire. So stop listening to the Headmaster for once and think on your own! Why the bloody hell would they take me on vacation?!"

"Then where _were_ you, Potter?" Snape drawled.

"I time-jumped, Professor. One minute I was on the steps and remember getting hit by a door. Next minute, I was at Hogwarts." Harry figured partial truths would be his best bet for now.

"And miraculously learning while you were time-jumping?" Snape continued the miniature interrogation.

"Harry spends much of the year at Hogwarts," Helena interrupted. "It is why he gets along better with some of those on my plain, now. His essence was here, but his body was not. We knew him and know him now. We will always recognize him, though it may take a small while to do so. Time, forms, none of these are a barrier."

Helena was playing the same game of partial truths, then. Harry forced himself to not smile. McGonagall looked at him, a bit strangely, and said, "Are you up to date, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Professor. I might be a bit ahead, actually." Harry looked directly at Snape, a note of challenge in his voice. The man glared at him, but said nothing.

"Very well. I will overlook the fact you are out of bounds," McGonagall said. She looked at Snape and back at Harry, "I cannot, however, overlook the fact you spoke about Professor Snape in the manner that you were."

"Because he's one of the main reasons my parents are dead?" Harry asked, standing now. He couldn't even eat the delicious-looking dessert now. He was angry and sickened. "Because he takes out his vendetta on me instead of my father, like he should have? How stupid do you think I _am_, Professor McGonagall, that I wouldn't one day find out about things that happen to connect to me?" Harry gave Snape a look of cold fury and said, "But everything _you've_ done, sir, is nothing compared to what the Headmaster and Sirius Black have done. I'm going to my dorm now." Harry began to leave, but Snape grabbed his arm.

"What do you mean, the Headmaster?" Snape asked. "I would watch what you say about Headmaster Dumbledore, Potter."

"You say that," Harry said quietly, his voice sounding much older than his years, and McGonagall stared at him as he continued, "because you've never seen how low the Headmaster is willing to stoop to do what he thinks is good for the bigger picture. He doesn't think about the smaller picture, about the single person."

"Sometimes the larger picture is the more important," McGonagall said quietly.

"But it needs the smaller parts to work," Harry replied. "Don't let him delude you." With that the boy left, the ghost with him, and the two teachers stared after him.

"What did he say?" Snape asked one of the elves, who stared at him as if he had grown another head.

"We is proud to keeps his secrets and our silence for him!" One of the elves said, outraged at the idea of betraying the young man. "We upholds his honor and shall not speak ill of him!" All of the elves were nodding, glaring at the two teachers.

"Of... of course," McGonagall said, sharing a look with Snape. There was _definitely_ more to the absence and return of Harry Potter than either the boy or the Headmaster was saying... especially for the house elves to refuse to answer their questions _and_ defend a student? "I think we'll have to do some digging around, Severus."

"I daresay you're right," the man muttered, sipping some tea. Both teachers sat in silence.

Harry, meanwhile, had reached Gryffindor Tower, after walking around with Helena for a bit. Everyone was sleeping, but Harry stood by his bed, thinking. He couldn't get Godric's words out of his head. Sighing and giving into his restlessness, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and put it on, leaving his dorm once more. He had to get to the Keep... and he had an idea as to how he was going to get there.

**A/N: Figured I'd reply to some of the many, many reviews... All I can say is thank you very, very much for reviewing and I'm hoping that, as the story moves along, questions are being answered and things like that. Also, someone asked about me making the chapters longer? I type them in 11pt, Times New Roman, and they're usually about 4-5 pages when I'm typing. If I were making them longer, it'd be a bit harder to separate ideas without a breaker, and I try to avoid those if I can, despite the fact I've used them in this story before. Sorry!**

**Other than that, I've just been a tad busy, but I've been trying hard to update within a reasonable fashion. So... just be patient, as you've been in the past, and I'll try my hardest to live up to your expectations and make ATtN worth it! As I've said on my profile, the story is winding to its end soon, but I want to make sure all loose ends are tied before I do so. Therefore, if you have questions, BE SURE TO ASK THEM! Usually, I re-check and see if I've left things vague, but I don't always catch things... so... er... yes, please let me know! Other than that, enjoy!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Harry strode through the hallways, trying to remember his way to the Chamber of Necessity. He was sure it was probably called something else now, but he didn't really care, so long as he found it. The easiest way to the Versatile Stair was through that room, even though there were other entrances.

He looked at a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet. If he remembered correctly, he had to walk past the bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what he needed. Harry did so, turning sharply at the window just beyond the blank stretch of wall, then at the man-sized vase on its other side. After his third walk past, a highly polished door had appeared in the wall. Harry smiled and, after glancing around, opened the door.

The small study that he remembered was there, and so was the door at the end of it. He went through quickly, and reached the Versatile Stair. He quickly stepped onto it, blinking rapidly because of the bright lighting and marble surroundings. And, as he remembered, there were scenes of various things happening. Images of students sneaking around, of teachers on patrol, of the grounds…

"Ugh," Harry muttered, putting a hand to his stomach. Unlike last time, he felt a bit sick. Well… no more curry before going on the Stair, no matter how tasty it was. Perhaps the house elves would teach him some of their recipes. Harry was a good cook—he had to be, otherwise it would have been yet another reason for the Dursleys to complain about. But these recipes would be beyond good. Harry gave himself a mental shake; he could worry about cooking later. Right now, he needed to be thinking about what Godric had said about the keys.

Finally, he felt fine enough to direct the stairs, mentally, to take him to the Keep. Soon, the stairs began to slow and he was in the Keep. The area was still surrounded by comfortable furniture, books and scrolls, albeit a tad dusty. There were still stained glass windows, and Harry stopped, staring at them. A lion, a bird, a badger, a snake: the Hogwarts animals and the dragon. But there was another one now, a smaller window that Harry didn't remember. It had all five of the animals, grouped together, in front of Hogwarts and the forest. He peered closer at the picture and blinked, confused. _This_ dragon, unlike its larger counterpart on the other window, was asleep.

_Never tickle a sleeping dragon_. Harry looked at the small lion, and he could see a feather on its paw. He looked at the larger lion—no feather.

Sighing, pondering this puzzle, Harry sat on a sofa in the room ignoring the puff of dust that rose when he did so. It was obvious Godric had meant for him to see the picture. So it was obvious that the picture was the way to solve the puzzle; the only question was how did it solve the puzzle?

He stood up, having an idea, and ran his finger across the dragon. Nothing. "Well, tickling you is out," He grumbled, wiping his now-dirty finger on his robe. He stared at it, knowing that he had to do something but not knowing what. _Godric… what kind of clue is this?_ Harry thought this as he inspected the window, prodding it with his hand and wand. Nothing was happening, and he was trying hard to not get irritated.

Finally, he couldn't help but let his temper get the better of him. "I can't figure out your clue, Godric! Stupid thing is in the glass and it's not like the lion will tickle the dragon!"

The lion's head turned and Harry yelped, surprised as it _moved_ through the scenery and lightly touched the dragon with the feather. But still… nothing had happened. The dragon didn't wake up…

Harry inspected the picture again. All of the animals were in the forest… The dragon had been in the Southern Edge. All of the animals were there… "Badger, Raven, go to the castle," Harry said, not daring to hope, but was pleasantly surprised that the animals in the window were moving, doing as he said. "Okay… _now_ tickle the dragon, lion."

The lion did so… but _still_ nothing happened. Harry repressed an angry shout and forced himself to be patient and _think_. So the animals responded… and Godric was recreating the incident with the dragon with the scene on the window.

The dragon wasn't waking up, even though Harry had reconstructed the scene… wait. He shut his eyes, thinking. He was Rowena's adopted son, right? Even though the dragon represented him, on the other window, it _couldn't_ represent him here. Godric was recreating an event. All three of them had been at the event… which meant the raven didn't represent _Rowena._ "Raven, come out of the castle," Harry instructed. The raven returned to its original spot. Now sure he was right, Harry said, "And now, for the last time I hope, lion, tickle the dragon."

When the lion did so, this time, the dragon opened its eyes and lifted its head. It stared at Harry for a second and turned its gaze to a bookshelf. Harry looked at the bookshelf and grinned as it moved to reveal a door. He grasped the door handle and opened it, revealing a narrow staircase that had self-lighting candles. They lit up as the door shut behind Harry, and slowly, he went up the staircase and opened the door that was waiting for him.

He found himself in a modest room where the walls were obscured entirely by floor to ceiling bookshelves full of not just books, but trinkets, parchment, scrolls, all sorts of things. There was a window, with utilitarian gray curtains. Coughing from the dust, Harry opened the windows, pleased when a cold night breeze ruffled the curtains and gave him some fresh air. He looked around and saw a small table and two chairs. On the table, there were different gems. Harry walked over to them, curious—everything else was dusty, _except_ three of the gems. Well, time to see if he knew what the stones were. Harry smiled and murmured aloud, "Sagenite, ruby, and sapphire," as he picked up the ruby.

"Excellent job, lad," a voice said, making Harry almost drop the ruby. He knew that voice.

"Godric?!" He whirled around, and saw the man, but he was wispy… flickering in and out of view. Harry tilted his head, confused. It _was_ Godric, and it wasn't a ghost. What on earth..?

"I was worried ye might not figure out what I did," Godric's image gave a wan smile, and Harry could see the man had graying hair and just looked… older. "I wanted to be sure no other received this, so I bound it to the alchemy that brought ye here. Sadly… I cannot hear or see ye. Tis just a message for thee, and I had to bind it to the gem. Rowena and Helga hath left ye one as well.

"Harry. I hath no children of my own, despite my various... partners. I therefore hath left ye as my heir, not just of my estate, but of my title and rank. I was told that ye did not understand how a life debt worked, therefore I believe ye may not know the difference between the heirs, so I shall explain the difference briefly.

"An heir is just the one who has belongings. One can have multiple heirs, but only one person can have title and rank. I hath made ye both, therefore thou hath, in a way, been taken in not only by Rowena, but by myself as well. Therefore, ye art also a Gryffindor, meaning some may refer to thee by Wyllt, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor." The image smiled and continued, "I hath mentioned the keys. Rowena and I both have Gringotts accounts. The keys are to the accounts and also to the academia of Hogwarts. I hope ye continues to leave the doors open for all students, Harry, but if ye refuse to allow entry, I am sure thy hath sound reasoning. Salazar and Helga left theirs as well, so we combined the four into two keys. The keys are in the hidden drawer, in the table. I shall stop and allow ye to look."

Harry turned and inspected the drawer. Underneath, he noticed the drawer, and he looked. There were two small keys, similar to the key to his vault, only etched with designs. One was green and blue, the other yellow and red. Both were on a chain that was obviously meant to be worn around the neck.

"I cannot do much for ye," Godric's image continued, "but the little that I can, I hath. Good luck, Harry, and make sure ye stay strong and live up to thy titles. And if I am heeded in the life after this, ye shall be looked after by many beings. Farewell lad." With this, the image faded.

Harry looked at the other two gems and picked up the yellow one. Sure enough, an image of Helga appeared. Like the image of Godric, hers was a bit older, but Harry would recognize her anywhere. And… his jaw gaped as he saw three children with her. Well, not children—two seemed older than Harry and one near his age.

"Hello Harry!" She said cheerfully. "I cannot see ye, but I am sure Godric's invention shall work. I miss seeing ye and I do wish I had learned more about cooking before ye were snatched from us!" She smiled, "I hope all is well with ye, and I wish to tell ye that I hath left ye my share of Hogwarts. I hath also requested that, if my bloodline is to end," and here she smiled at her children and returned her gaze to where Harry supposed the stone was, "if my bloodline dies, I leave all things to ye, just as Godric did. If this happens, all things regarding the title and items shall be at Gringotts. Mention thy name or bring this gem. The goblins shall know ye speak the truth."

_The Hufflepuff line died a few decades ago. Helga… I'm sorry_. Harry looked at the image, a bit sad. All three of them rested their hopes in him. He couldn't let them down.

"I am sorry we could not be there for ye, Harry," Helga continued, "and I know that as much as we miss ye, ye must miss us. Yet the old words have it best: be of good cheer. Our memory lives in ye and ye are a strong young man. Take care." Her image, like Godric's, faded away.

The last gem shone brightly and Harry swallowed hard and slowly picked it up. Rowena appeared, and, unlike the others, Harry noticed she was sitting. Something that looked similar to a tiara was on her head—that must be the diadem that Helena had mentioned. But there was an air around Rowena now that Harry didn't remember—even though it was just her image, he could feel it. She seemed wiser and a bit sadder as well. Harry felt so badly that he almost began to cry on the spot.

And then she smiled, and Harry's heart clenched. He missed that smile so much… her eyes seemed to sparkle now, and she spoke, "Hello child. I am glad that ye hath found the messages we left." She was silent for a bit, and then continued, "I hath taken in one of our former students, Helena Forrester, though she is calling herself by my surname now. I thought ye may consider her a sister."

Harry nodded, despite knowing the image couldn't see him. Yes, he had met Helena.

"She will not take the hand of Edward Pavlides, a fellow student that is in Salazar's House." Rowena seemed sad and she continued, "Harry, the school is divided. I know it remains standing in thy time, but I fear for those inside it. Salazar's House must see sense in order for our school to continue, and so must our students. I fear that, once we are gone, none shall remember the times of peace."

She was right. Harry sighed, saddened, and she continued, "Enough of that, though. If Helena doth not have children, ye shall be the sole heir of my estate and title. Merlin hath left some things for ye in our vault as well. Harry… I do not know the laws of thy time. For us, however, if one is set free, that means one is truly free, to choose a home and live on their terms. I love thee, my son, and I set thee free. Ye hath the means to survive and I am sure the wonderful beings at Gringotts shall help ye set up thy belongings and other items. And though I know many wizards treat our fellow beings a certain way, I beg ye to not do so. _All_ beings deserve respect, for they are intelligent in ways we can only dream." Her image seemed to be staring steadily at him, and Harry nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him. He would do his best to treat all beings with respect. And goblins would be easy to respect—Harry knew that treating the beings in charge of money disrespectfully was just an idiotic move.

"Also… Harry, my son… forgive the man who hath taken ye away."

"WHAT!?" Harry shouted, forgetting she couldn't hear or see him. "FORGIVE HIM!? WHY!?"

The image was silent, almost as if Rowena had _known_ he wouldn't be happy about what she had said, and, chuckling, she continued, "I thought ye might hath an outburst, so I waited. As I was saying… forgive the man. Anger is easy, hatred is easy… but forgiveness is something only a strong being can do. Ye hath shown incredible strength and maturity, child. Please… continued to do so by forgiving him. If ye art as strong as we hath seen, then we can understand why so many people rely on ye." She smiled and said, "Forgiveness does not mean to forget what he is capable of. Tread softly, but do not hold his actions against him. All things happen for a reason… and we shall see each other again. Of that, I hath no doubt."

Forgive Dumbledore? Harry sighed. He didn't like it very much, but he would honor Rowena's request. And perhaps… he would extend that to other people as well. He didn't have to like it, but maybe… sometimes being the better person meant doing things that you didn't like. Rowena was smart and Harry loved her dearly.

"I believe Godric explained some things in his message for ye," Rowena's image said. "I trust ye shall have no trouble claiming thy right as an heir. Be strong, child, be merciful, use wise judgment and be true to thyself. I love thee, forever and always. Farewell, my heir, my son." With that, like the others before, Rowena's image faded.

"I love you too," he whispered to the silent room. He swept up the three gems and placed them in his pocket, then he put on the chain with the two keys. "Live up to my titles, be of good cheer, and forgive Dumbledore? Those three things will be hard, but I can do them." He smiled, feeling… relieved. It might be the same message, but Harry could at least see and hear three of the people he cared for. He had Tobias, Helena and Edward in the here and now to help him with things, and he knew that Helena was right—he had seen the house elves and their reactions.

Harry wanted to see the vaults and talk to the goblins, but how was he supposed to get to Diagon Alley? It was late at night, but Harry knew that if he took the Versatile Stair, he'd be able to reach the kitchens easily. He was sure some of the house elves would be awake… he left the room, going to the Versatile Stair and entered the kitchens.

"Professor Wyllt!" one of the elves said happily. "You is back!"

Harry couldn't help but smile, "Yes, I'm back. I'm sorry I'm here so late—"

The elves tilted their heads, obviously not caring _how_ late he came in, and Harry chuckled. "Do any of you go to Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, Professor! We goes to shop for supplies!" Many of the elves said simultaneously, hopping around.

Amused, Harry continued, "You think I could go with you on Saturday? I need to check on some things."

"Of course sir!" the elves said happily. "Would Professor Wyllt like some tea?"

"Er," Harry said, looking at his watch. It was awfully late… "Just some hot chocolate, please? I have to get back to Gryffindor Tower. It is okay if I take the mug too?"

The elves were zooming over with a large mug of hot chocolate and Harry smiled, putting on his cloak as he left with the delicious mug of hot chocolate.

He had been too distracted, and so had the elves by his arrival, to see the man hidden by the shadows of the kitchen doorway. Harry continued past him without noticing him, so well hidden and silent he was. The elves were back to their usual hustle and bustle when Snape stepped out once he was sure Harry Potter wouldn't be returning. He quietly requested some tea from a house elf and left the kitchens, thinking.

Firstly, why would the elves refer to Potter, famous but still a student, as a Professor? Secondly, why would they call him Wyllt? Snape knew his history—Wyllt was a surname for Merlin.

Potter wasn't a Professor nor was he Merlin. And lastly… Potter didn't have permission to leave the school. The elves were bound to the school, its policies, and the Headmaster. For them to _agree_ to take the boy off the grounds—to go _against_ the Headmaster's policy… meant that they were obeying Potter over the rules.

Why? Snape pondered this for a few moments before deciding that driving himself mad with questions wouldn't help him. He figured that discussing it with McGonagall, however, might. Of all the other staff members, she was really one of the only ones he trusted. She had always been fair, willing to listen to the full story. She had accepted him from the beginning, from the time he had been a _student, _and continued to accept him now, despite all of his past mistakes.

He went up to her chambers and knocked quietly. She came out in a tartan robe, obviously exhausted and ready to glare until she saw who it was. "Severus? What's wrong?" she asked immediately, knowing the younger man rarely bothered anyone, especially if he knew they were sleeping.

"I thought I had some answers about Potter," he murmured softly, "but I'm just left with more questions."

"What do you mean?"

"Inside," Snape muttered. "The walls have ears."

With that, the two teachers went into McGonagall's office, shutting the door.

Neither saw or heard the mug of hot chocolate that had fallen to the floor. Harry Potter stared at the door to McGonagall's office, unsure what to think. He wanted to be angry, but… he didn't see the point. He smiled, thinking about the situation—the Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin House, working together to see what had happened to him. Nosy, yes, but concern as well was evident. Harry figured he would let the two teachers alone to figure out what had happened to him. Sighing, he picked up the mug, shaking his head at the waste of delicious hot chocolate, and resumed his slow, meandering walk to Gryffindor Tower.


	19. Chapter 19

**19.**

The next day brought classes, homework and people being awkward around him. Harry knew his shouting yesterday was the main reason people were being distant now, but he had been so angry... how could his friends had been so stupid? How could they really believe that the _Dursleys_ would have brought him on vacation with them? It was idiotic, and Harry still couldn't understand how they had been so blind, even though he had calmed down about it. Remembering the words of the Founders to him had helped greatly, but Harry also didn't want to act like a child--he had seen that being angry, furious, throwing tantrums because he hadn't gotten his way was similar to how his cousin Dudley would've acted. Needless to say, that comparison had quickly made Harry change how he had decided to act towards his friends and the Headmaster. But for now, since nobody really was bothering him, he could do something useful with his time.

He was in the Gryffindor Common Room, doing his homework, when a voice said, "What's this? Someone doing work? Fred, we are needed!"

A gasp of mock horror and Fred's voice said, "Oh no! Work being done! Productiveness! George, we must stop this madness!" And with this, both twins jumped on the table and beamed widely at Harry, who just laughed as they stood there, using a spell one of them had invented to put a spotlight on the two of them. Being used to the Weasley twins, the other Gryffindors looked over, as George bowed and Fred curtsied, and laughed, obviously amused at the twins' antics.

"You two are insane, you know that?" Harry said, shaking his head and putting down his quill; he had been working on an essay for Snape's class. "You need anything?"

The twins shared a look and then jumped down from the table, taking off the spotlight spell as they slid into the chairs next to Harry, effectively sandwiching the younger boy. "We want to know--" Fred began, his voice low, and George continued, his voice just as low as his brother's.

"--what really happened--"

"--while you were gone--"

"--and if you could find it in your ever generous--"

"--kind, caring and wonderful--"

"--heart to forgive--"

And both twins finished simultaneously, "--the idiot that is our ickle Ronniekins."

Harry chuckled and muttered, "I think... I was just hurt. I could vanish and they wouldn't care, as long as Dumbledore made up some lame excuse." He sighed and looked at the parchment he had been writing his essay on. "I know he's your brother, but--"

"You have every right to be mad at him for being a prat," George said softly. "Everyone knows the crap you put up with. We went and got you from there last year, remember? Who bars someone into a room, seriously..."

Fred nodded and continued, "We're not mad at you, Harry. Just... Ron's been miserable. He doesn't act any better when we tell him that he deserves it for being an idiot. And maybe he should be brave and apologize, but you know Ron."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, sighing once more. The twins shared a dark look; they had had to go and knock sense into their younger brother who, once Harry had started giving him the cold shoulder, had declared he didn't 'need Harry-bloody-Potter anyway.' Ron wasn't being a very good friend, and the twins had figured Harry was better than them, because they would have strung Ron up by his heels in the Great Hall or something until he stopped being stupid. Harry continued quietly, "You're right, I know Ron and Hermione too. But... do they know me? They took Dumbledore's word over their own common sense... that scares me, it really does." He rolled up his parchment and looked at the twins, "But... you know, I think I'm not as angry anymore. Just a bit hurt and sad for them, if that makes sense?"

"In a way--"

"--but you don't want to--"

"--grow up too fast--"

And then together: "--or then you're just as bad but in a different way!"

Harry shook his head and smiled, thinking, and decided he'd trust them. "I think.... that I forgave them and Dumbledore already." The boy gave a small smile and the twins laughed. They then took Harry by the arms and frog-marched him out of the Common Room, despite his loud protests about his work needing to be finished. They continued walking, stopping in a small, empty corridor after a few minutes and Harry noticed Fred muttering "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," to a piece of parchment.

"All right, in here," Fred led the way into an empty classroom. "Alright Harry, talk. What really happened while you were gone?"

Harry looked down at his feet. He didn't know what to tell them... and his friends had shown their intellect sometimes fell short....

The twins shared looks and Fred said, "Harry, give me your hand. George?"

"I know. I'll be your Bonder, you'll be mine."

"Wait, what's going on?" Harry demanded, looking back and forth between the two of them, unsure of what to think.

"Dumbledore broke your trust, Ron and Hermione are idiots and right now, you can't really trust anyone," Fred said. "We're going to prove ourselves worthy of your trust by making the Unbreakable Vow. George will be our Bonder, and I'll be the Bonder between you and George."

Harry looked back and forth between them, confused, "A _what_?"

"The Unbreakable Vow," George explained as Fred put up wards, charms, barriers and all sorts of other enchantments to make sure they weren't overheard, "requires that the Bonder's wand be touching the joined hands of the person administering the vow and the person taking the vow. As each clause of the oath being sworn is agreed to, a thin tongue of brilliant red flame shoots from the caster's wand and winds itself around the joined hands of the participants, remaining in place as other clauses of the oath are sworn to." George looked at Harry, no trace of humor in his face, "That's what you'll be seeing. Now... if a person breaks the Unbreakable Vow, they die."

"WHAT?!" Harry yelped, looking back and forth at the twins. "You can't, you don't have--!"

"You're right," Fred said from the other side of the room, where he was putting up charms. "We don't _have_ to. We're willing to, because we _won't_ break it. We're not going to tell other people whatever you tell us. Got it?"

Harry nodded, unsure of what to reply to that. The twins, however, kept going until they had finished, and soon, both of them had gone through the Unbreakable Vow. Knowing that nobody could hear them, and seeing how far the twins were willing to go to show Harry they were trustworthy was what prompted the boy to tell the truth about what had happened, from Aunt Marge hitting him with the door til he was with Aberforth in Dumbledore's office. The tale took some time, but the twins didn't interrupt or look bored at all--they were a very good audience, paying rapt attention, especially when Harry told them about the incident with the dragon.

The stars were out when Harry finished talking; they had been in the room all afternoon. George spoke first, "Wow. That's... so you're the Heir of three of the Founders."

"And the first Headmaster." Fred looked at the younger boy, who nodded and remained silent. "I'm sorry for your loss, mate."

"Huh?" Harry looked up.

George grinned at him, "You felt a parent's love. It's not easy to give up--if someone took Mum and Dad away, we'd kill them, to hell with Azkaban."

Harry hadn't thought of it like that, but the twins weren't finished. Fred continued, "You had them, at least. For a little while, you had someone. You loved someone and they loved you. You really think that time would take that away? That the people we love leave us?" the red-haired teen grinned at Harry, who looked down, unsure of what to say. "Dad says they've studied stuff like that at the Ministry."

"Really?" Harry was surprised.

"Yeah," George said. "There's some veil or something, but you can hear them, people who crossed onto the other side, after death. Dumbledore made a mistake. He's getting senile, you just suffered from it."

Harry laughed--that was a nice way of putting it. A senile Headmaster and two idiots for friends... but at least one of his friends had two decent older brothers that were worth trusting.

"Fred, George... thank you." Harry said quietly. He felt better, having told his story to someone. It was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

The twins smiled, and said together, "We're your friends too, Harry. You ever need us, come get us. Night!" With that they left and Harry, after chuckling, amused, soon did the same. Harry walked to the kitchens--it wasn't curfew yet, so he knew no teachers would be after him. He just wanted some tea or coffee--he still had some homework to do, after all.

Lupin was sitting in the kitchens, alone, looking down into a mug of tea. He looked up, and Harry flushed, remembering his first conversation with the man. Upon seeing Harry standing there, Lupin returned his gaze to the tea mug.

The elves looked unsure of what to greet Harry with, but the boy quietly asked for a slice of cake and a hot chocolate. Then he took a seat across from Lupin. The man looked seriously depressed. "Hey Professor."

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Lupin replied quietly, briefly meeting Harry's eyes before returning his gaze to the tea. "You seem to have been correct. My... dark _creature_ course is one that you are quite advanced in." His tone was bitter, and Harry felt a bit guilty. He had been a bit rude to the man, and brutally honest.

"I didn't mean it like that, sir," Harry said, taking a bite of the cake and nodding his thanks to the elves. "I mean... it just seemed like you were focusing on one subject area. Voldemort is a dark wizard, he uses dark spells... and with Sirius Black--" Harry stopped because Lupin's hand had tightened around the mug at the mention of the criminal. Wondering about the reaction, Harry slowly asked, "Professor... did you know him?"

"... I thought I did," Lupin answered quietly. He looked as if he were ready to leave, then, perhaps because of memories...

"He was my dad's best friend... so you knew my dad?" Harry inquired, looking at the man. Perhaps he could turn the conversation to something slightly more pleasant.

Lupin stopped for a moment and looked at the young man. Slowly he nodded, "I knew James quite well. He... loved jokes, loved to laugh." Lupin smiled, remembering the other Potter and looked at Harry, "You look remarkably like him, but with Lily's eyes. And her temperament." He chuckled at Harry's face and said, "Lily was smart, and she'd tell you how she felt in a minute. Her and James had some debates..." the man chuckled, amused and remembering.

Harry nodded and both of them looked up as someone else came into the kitchens--Snape. Oh boy... "Potter," the man said, one of the elves getting him some tea, nodding his head to Harry. Ever since Harry had confronted him, the boy had noticed Snape had been slightly, ever so slightly, less mean to him. Not nice, of course--Harry was a Gryffindor, after all--but a bit more tolerable. Harry wasn't complaining. "Lupin," Snape sneered, glaring at the brown-haired man.

"Severus," the other man replied quietly, looking back at his tea.

Harry looked at the scene. _They don't get along._ He was curious as to why that would be. Lupin had said he knew Harry's dad... perhaps Snape hadn't gotten along with them. Tobias would probably know more about the subject... He stood up, ready to leave, when someone else came into the kitchens. Harry forced himself to remain expressionless as the Headmaster smiled at the elves and asked for something to drink. All of these adults and himself... not the greatest of situations.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, sitting next to Lupin.

"Headmaster," Harry said quietly, standing. "Bye Professor Lupin, Professor Snape." He left the kitchens and went back to Gryffindor Tower. It was blessedly empty in the Common Room, and his stuff was still where he left it. Relieved, Harry went to it and began writing once more.

"About time you returned," Edward's voice muttered, as he turned visible. "You re-arranged a room in the school."

"Huh?" Harry thought for a moment--when had he done that? "What are you talking about?"

The ghost shook his head and said, "There's a chamber now where discussions cannot be overheard, and promises made cannot be broken. A few students were gossiping and they're all in the Hospital Ward after telling other people, even though they promised they wouldn't. Horribly sick, they are..."

Harry's eyes widened, "What?!" He thought and froze, remembering, "Fred and George."

"Two _normal _students would not have the authority to do this. You, however, as the Heir..." Edward looked at him, clicking the facts together. "You were with them."

Harry nodded, "They made an Unbreakable Vow, in the room." He looked down, "They wanted to know what had really happened while I was away, so they did that to prove they were trustworthy."

"You didn't want to be overheard. The school adjusted itself for your wish, seeing as you are the Heir of Hogwarts and, technically, the Headmaster as well." Edward sighed and looked at Harry, "You need to control yourself better, sir."

Like it was his fault?! "I didn't know that'd happen."

"I don't think any of us did," replied Edward truthfully. "But Voie mentioned that Dumbledore was looking into it. He was quite surprised, seeing as the school hasn't shifted like that in centuries."

"Oh," Harry said, realizing. "I see... Thanks for the warning."

"You are welcome, Professor." Edward looked around, "Also, are you set for the weekend?"

"Yes, some of the elves will be bringing me to Diagon Alley." Harry smiled, "It's just waiting til then."

Edward smiled and then said, "I must be off, sir. Good luck with your homework." With that the ghost faded and Harry continued working, the Common Room silent except for the scratching of his quill and his flipping of pages in the textbook.

He couldn't see, of course, McGonagall's shock at what she had heard from the Common Room. All of the Heads of House could hear what went on in the Common Rooms of their Respective Houses... She looked at the floo powder, on her fireplace. She had to tell Severus...

Her younger colleague was such an enigma. McGonagall respected him greatly--he had gone into the Darkness and returned, fighting for redemption the entire time, risking his life... She knew that fact made many wary of him, but she remembered the boy Severus Snape had been. A quiet, brilliant boy... who had been picked on by the other children, who hadn't had a good home life... and his actions had caused the murder of one of his only true friends, Lily Evans. McGonagall knew that fate had punished the man enough for his actions. She didn't need to react with fear or revulsion towards him; hadn't he suffered enough?

She knew Severus would stay silent once she told him--the Weasley twins had made the Unbreakable Vow to show Harry Potter they were trustworthy. What about the boy had inspired such loyalty? She shook her head, unsure of what to think about this. "Severus," she said, seeing the man at the doorway to his office, "might I have a word?"

He nodded and stepped through the fireplace, having the flames die behind him. "What is it?"

"Harry Potter... from what I've heard, he seems to be the Heir of Hogwarts."

The man stared at her for a long time and swallowed hard, "Repeat that."

"Harry Potter seems to be the Heir of Hogwarts..." McGonagall looked at him--he was staring at the wall, obviously digesting the information.

Finally, Snape said, "How?"

"He was talking to the Bloody Baron in the Common Room," McGonagall explained. "They mentioned a chamber where you can't be overheard or break a promise...."

"Wyllt. Headmaster Wyl--" Snape broke off, eyes widening. "I should have known. Headmaster Wyllt." He stood up, causing McGonagall to stare after him and quickly follow as he stormed through the school, his black robes billowing behind him.

"What?" McGonagall said, a bit out of breath. He was a fast walker, and she was relieved no students were around to notice her panting.

"History, Minerva," Snape said, entering the library. "Headmaster Wyllt... here it is." He pulled out the rather large tome of Hogwarts, A History Unabridged part one. The two read the section about Headmaster Wyllt and looked at each other.

"That's why he's angry," McGonagall whispered. "How could Albus do that? How could he have someone take Potter away from a loving home?"

"_You say that because you've never seen how low the Headmaster is willing to stoop to do what he thinks is good for the bigger picture. He doesn't think about the smaller picture, about the single person."_ Snape remembered Potter had said that. It seemed that the boy had known what he was talking about.

"Minerva," Snape muttered, looking at the information and thinking about what they had just learned, "There... there is a prophecy... about the Heir of Hogwarts. What are we supposed to do now?"

For once, the stern Transfigurations teacher had no answer... but she did have a question, "A... prophecy?"

The man laughed, bitter, and said, "I seem to be cursed with hearing them. Yes... a prophecy... about the Heir." He looked at her, silent for a long time and said, "This chamber you said that the Baron told Potter about. Any idea where it would be?"

"Yes, I was with Pomona when she asked her students what had happened." McGonagall led the way, curious and wondering what would happen now, and if she really wanted to know what Severus Snape was going to tell her about this prophecy. He hadn't told anyone, she was sure, judging from his reaction. And from the last time he had told about a prophecy...

What was going to happen now? It was all she could wonder about as she led the way into the new chamber of the school.


	20. Chapter 20

**20.**

McGonagall looked at Snape, who was looking around the classroom, inspecting it. "Hm."

"What is it?" McGonagall asked, curious as to what he was looking for.

"This chamber looks as if it has been a part of the school for a long while. The magic that made the school made this chamber." Snape continued looking at the stones and objects in the room, bent over as he continued looking at them. "There is no doubt that the school is obeying Potter over any of us." He stretched and looked at her. After a few moments, he murmured, "I have done some horrible things in my life."

McGonagall nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

"There was one night, the Dark Lord came to observe me as I brewed some potions for him," Snape said, looking out the window at the night sky. "It was just he and I, and... he began speaking in a voice that wasn't his own. I know you don't believe in prophecies, but..." Snape shook his head, "He was the one who said the prophecy about the Heir of Hogwarts."

"You-Know-Who was a Seer?" McGonagall asked, thrown off by the fact that _He_ had made such a prophecy.

"I don't know," Snape said quietly. "Some tales claim Salazar Slytherin was a Seer. The Dark Lord was a Parselmouth... perhaps some of the Seer ability was in him as well."

"I don't hold much stake in prophecies," McGonagall said softly. "No matter _who_ made them. We make our own destiny. But I must admit, I'm curious. What was this prophecy?"

Snape shrugged and said, "_The Heir of Hogwarts returns,  
doppelgangers alongside him,  
the Lords of Power against him.  
Guides of Light and Darkness shall help him along the path of destiny.  
At journey's end, the Heir and those with him shall show the world the way.  
Then and only then shall the Master of Past and Present have a home."_

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, "That's... vague. And confusing, as most prophecies are. Besides, that's impossible."

"Hm?" Snape looked at her, a bit relieved--she seemed to see the common sense in things. The two of them tended to form an odd balance.

"Guides of Light and Darkness? You-Know-Who won't be going out of his way to help Potter," McGonagall said, watching as Snape chuckled, amused at the idea. "And I don't think Potter wants help from the Headmaster."

"True." Snape heaved a sigh, obviously relieved. "So you don't think this is possible?"

"Of course not." McGonagall said, shaking her head. "Though Potter might be the Heir of Hogwarts, I don't see much of the prophecy you heard happening. And there is no way to be a Master of Past and Present. I can see why you would be worried about a prophecy, but think logically about it."

"... Well..."

"Severus. Trust me. Don't worry about it. Have you told anyone else about this?"

The man gave a bitter laugh, "After what happened last time? I'm not _that_ stupid." At McGonagall's glare, Snape looked around the room, and changed the subject, "Let's go check up on the Hufflepuffs. I swear, teenagers and their gossiping... I can hear Pomfrey fretting and demanding potions from me already. Did you care who dated whom when you were a student?"

McGonagall laughed and left with the man, the two heading to the Hospital Wing. They passed Gryffindor Tower on their way, where Harry Potter was finally finished his homework. He stretched, a long wide stretch that he groaned during.

"H-Harry?" a voice said, making Harry turn his head mid-stretch. Hermione stood there, hands fidgeting nervously.

"Hermione," Harry said quietly, looking at her. He was still disappointed at how easily she had been convinced that he was on "vacation" by Dumbledore. He finished his stretch and asked, "What is it?"

"... I'm sorry," she muttered, looking down.

Harry looked at her for a long time. Neither spoke as he stared at her, and finally, he asked, "Why?"

"What?" Hermione looked at him instead of her shoes, confused.

Harry shut his book, slowly, and said, "Why are you sorry?" Her apology wouldn't be any good if she didn't know _what_ she had done wrong.

"Because I wasn't a good friend," Hermione said, swallowing hard. "But Harry--we thought that Dumbledore had talked to your aunt and uncle, or they had changed--"

"When has the Headmaster visited students, Hermione?" Harry inquired, forcing himself to remain calm. Touching the gems in his pocket helped with that, at least—it reminded him of the words they had said to him. "Why didn't you even try writing to me?"

"I apologized already!" Hermione protested. The fact that she didn't answer him didn't go unnoticed. "I was wrong, is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry, Harry, I really am! Ron is too--"

"Funny way of showing it, saying he doesn't need Harry-bloody-Potter anyway." Harry smiled, a small, sad smile, as he saw Hermione pale. "I heard about that, yes."

"Harry, he's angry, can you blame him? You just come back out of the blue and then get angry at us! We're your friends, we're on your side--" Hermione broke off, unable to continue.

Harry stared at her again, but Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes. Finally, after a few more seconds of awkward silence, Harry inquired, "Hermione... how often did you think of me, while I was gone?"

"What?" Hermione stared at him, thrown off by the question. Harry didn't smile, and Hermione looked down once more. Harry knew, from her reaction, that he wasn't acting the way she thought he would. It made him sad; did they really not know him?

"I asked how often you thought of me. It's a simple enough question."

"Well, the twins would ask if we heard anything from you, but we were busy, with work--" Hermione began, but Harry interrupted.

"The twins thought of me more than you and Ron--my friend's brothers thought of me more than either of you did?" He looked at her and said, "Hermione... you were my friend."

"I don't know what's happened that made you change so much," Hermione said, staring at him. "_You _doing your homework, staying away from us, blaming Dumbledore--who do you think you are?"

"... I'm just Harry," the boy whispered softly.

"Ron was right. You really... you really have changed. Maybe when you're the Harry _we_ remember, we can be friends." Hermione was sad as she said this, and Harry knew what this was; a parting of the ways. Not mean, but not nice either--when is saying goodbye to a friendship ever nice?

"Perhaps when you and Ron are the two _I_ remember, we can be friends," Harry said softly. He looked at her closely once more and said, "I'm sorry for what's been lost, but I'm not sorry for who I am, Hermione."

She smiled, a weak one, and said, "Neither am I, Harry. Maybe it's better that it happened now and not later. I'll tell Ron."

"Thank you."

She nodded and they looked at each other for a few moments more before Hermione said, "Good night." With that she was gone. Harry looked at the table, thinking; years to build a friendship that been eliminated in a matter of a few minutes. Life could be cruel and fast sometimes. He sighed and went up to his dorm to sleep.

It was finally Friday. Harry went to breakfast, and everyone was there, talking or eating. The next thing anyone knew, Dumbledore was dangling the air by his heels, his blue pointy hat falling, his blue robes flipping over, revealing striped undergarments, and his long beard messily covering his face. His glasses were on the floor, and one of the lenses seemed to have shattered.

The teachers gaped in shock, and the students... the Slytherins were too busy laughing, Harry's jaw, along with other people's, had dropped, but he couldn't help the grin that was making its way onto his face. He looked around and saw George putting away his wand and winking at Harry. Fred looked over at him and grinned broadly and then Dumbledore fell onto the stone floor.

Nobody knew what to think as the Headmaster slowly stood up, dusting himself off. He slowly, gingerly, picked up his glasses and hat and, after a long look at the Great Hall, which caused everyone to fall silent, sat down. He picked up his fork and ate a bit of food, then stopped, eyes widening. Everyone in the Hall, still silent, heard his stomach gurgle. The man then jumped up and quickly ran out of the Hall, and Harry was sure Dumbledore would be in the bathroom for a _long_ time.

Everyone slowly left the Great Hall for class, Harry leaving with George and Fred. "Your doing?" He asked quietly, referring to what had happened.

"Of course," Fred said, smirking. "Nobody screws with our friends and gets away with it."

Harry thought about it and smiled, "You don't have to do that, but thanks."

"For what? This is just the beginning," George said, an evil grin on his face. "We needed a guinea pig desperately. And the house elves don't seem to care much when we put things into his food."

"Just don't get caught," Harry said quietly.

"Us? Never!" the two said simultaneously as they separated. Harry shook his head and entered the Charms classroom, excited--he'd finally be able to ask Flitwick about that charm. Sure enough, the little man was there.

"Hey, Professor?" Harry stood at the man's desk, looking at him over the large pile of books on the desk.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Flitwick squeaked, peering at the boy.

"Are there charms that can fix eyes?" Harry indicated his glasses. "I read something about a spell that could do it, but there wasn't much detail about how it was done."

"Well," Flitwick said, thinking, pleased that a student was doing extra research. "Supposedly... there used to be. But we've lost a lot of magic over the centuries."

"When was the last time that was supposedly able to be done?" Harry asked, curious.

Flitwick gave Harry a rueful smile, "In Merlin's day."

"Oh." Harry fell silent and sat back down. He remembered the spell... but wouldn't people want to know how he knew it? He mused over the thought as he took notes. The day passed uneventfully, with the exception of Ron's glares towards him, but Harry ignored these--he was too excited for what tomorrow would bring.

Dinner came, and Harry was in the Great Hall, sitting with Fred and George. "Watch," Fred murmured to Harry, and the three slowly glanced at Dumbledore, who had inspected his food thoroughly before eating. Suddenly, his beard seemed to gain a life of its own, snapping all around and growling, trying to bite the headmaster. Everyone began laughing once more, even the teachers, as Dumbledore tried all sorts of spells to make his beard return to normal. Harry was grinning broadly, unable to resist laughing. Finally, Dumbledore got his beard under control, stood up, and... tripped, once again revealing his striped undergarments and messing up his appearance.

Angry, glaring at the students who dared laughed, Dumbledore left the Great Hall. "Priceless," Harry said to the twins, who just laughed and continued eating their dinner. Harry finished his meal and went up to Gryffindor Tower, falling asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

It was very early, the sky still dark, when a hand gently poked him. "Uh?" Harry asked, exhausted. He put on his glasses, revealing a house elf.

"Professor Wyllt wished to come to Diagon Alley?" the elf whispered.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, sitting up. "Let me take a shower, I'll be in the kitchens in a few." True to his word, the boy soon arrived in the kitchens, the elves happily bouncing when they saw him.

"You is ready?" one of them asked, holding out a hand to the boy.

Harry nodded and took the elf's hand. The world seemed to fade around them, almost like everything had turned to static, and soon, the area changed from the kitchens to a long cobbled street where the strange and exciting assortment of shops and restaurants that was Diagon Alley. Looking around, Harry could see Gringotts Wizarding Bank, the large white marble building partway down Diagon Alley towering over all of the other buildings. He walked towards it, knowing the elves would find him without a problem.

Passing through the engraved silver door of Gringotts, Harry could see the goblins everywhere. He went to the front desk and one of the goblins looked at him. "I'd like to talk with you about my accounts," Harry said, swallowing hard, nervous.

"Your _accounts_?" The goblin peered at Harry, interested at the plural.

"Yes," Harry said, looking all around. Sure nobody was listening, he said, in a low voice, "My name is Harry Potter." Seeing the goblin shrug, Harry smiled and said, "I am also called Harry Wyllt--"

The goblin immediately looked around and leaned closer to Harry, "Lord Ravenclaw?"

Harry nodded, "Gryffindor and Hufflepuff as well. I've the keys and the gems they left a message to me with." Harry showed the keys and the goblin quickly led Harry past the busy front desk area into a quiet back area. They walked for a long while, reaching a quiet office far from others. "I am Mutdok, sir." The goblin looked at Harry, "We're waiting for Trenag. He is in charge of the various items that are yours."

Soon, another goblin appeared. He seemed older than Mutdok, and, judging from the respect the goblin was given, Harry figured the guy had some rank. "Hello," Harry said politely, smiling.

"Hello, young Lord. Thank you Mutdok." Trenag sat on the other side of the desk, a _huge_ stack of books appearing next to him as he sat. "Sir Wyllt... you have a great deal of things left to you." The goblin looked at Harry, who seemed surprised. The goblin gave him a rare smile and said, "The Founders left it clear that you were to get their vaults also. In this day and age, that is not allowed, but since it was left so long ago, we have made an exception, although we joined all of them into one vault. Also... you have many investments."

"I'm sorry?" Harry blinked, obviously thrown off. He had just thought he had a vault...

Trenag sighed, knowing he was going to have to do a lot of explaining. He wasn't surprised, though he was relieved he had someone willing to listen instead of just wanting the money. "You have vaults, of course, ancient ones, which have things besides money. We will take a look later, if you'd like?"

"Sure. What did you mean by investments, though?" Harry was genuinely curious, and the goblin chuckled.

"Essentially... it is the magical equivalent of a stock market. You have funded many organizations... many companies... and it is your vaults that pay the staff of Hogwarts." The goblin gave Harry a sheet with the pay of the staff.

"Dumbledore gets a lot more in his bonuses than any of the others," Harry said quietly. "Just because he's headmaster he can get that high a bonus every year?"

"Because none have changed it," Trenag replied.

Harry thought about it and he grinned. Forgiveness was one thing, but from the overwhelming pay... "All right, cap his pay. No more bonuses unless I approve."

"Yes _sir,_" Trenag said, grinning. Harry figured he could grow to like the goblin.

"The other teachers--give them a raise of... um..." Harry didn't know what a good number would be.

Trenag looked at him and did some calculations, "The lowest paid teacher barely makes the cost of living. If you'd raise that salary by nine percent, he'd be making one percent more than it."

Harry thought, not really sure about finances. "Well, that's just to cover cost of living. How about we raise it by twelve percent for now, for all of them except the headmaster."

Trenag scribbled this down quickly, "Back pay as well?"

"Just for this year," Harry said decisively, thinking about the fact that there may have been different teachers through the years. "What else?"

"You own a fair percent of the Daily Prophet," the goblin said, obviously amused. He looked at Harry, who was wondering why the goblin found it funny. "Perhaps you can make them write stories that don't show us as creatures out to steal and hoard objects."

"I'll work on that," Harry said, grinning.

"I'll leave the list of businesses that you have a stock in. Some of them we did for you--we figured so much..." Trenag paused and continued, "We thought that a boost to the economy might be needed sometimes. And with those particular vaults being untouched... it was a win-win, we thought. And, well, it was over the years. I hadn't realized how much it had accumulated... this is far too much for one person. If it wasn't for the fact that there were magical wills instated, the Ministry would've had all of this a long time ago."

Harry nodded—the goblins probably hadn't thought, after all the centuries that passed, an actual heir would step up. He could forgive the fact they had used the money in stocks and the like--his uncle and aunt always claimed rich people 'messed up the economy by keeping their stuff in the bank all the time.' He'd have to make sure to look up things, but he knew even the rich wizarding families like the Malfoys worked. "I lived without it before and I think you guys know way more about stuff like that then me. I want to help fund a shop on Diagon Alley, though, in a few years. Would that be alright?"

Trenag nodded and Harry looked over the very long list once more. "It says St. Mungo's too?"

"Oh yes--you fund quite a large portion of the hospital." The goblin looked at the boy who was looking at the large list of everything the hospital did.

Finally, Harry said, "I want to increase whatever they get by twenty-five percent." Harry kept looking over the list and he stared and looked at Trenag, "My stuff funds the bank too?"

"Yes," Trenag said, looking down. "Lady Ravenclaw wanted to extend a hand to magical creatures. It says the bank, but it's really for all businesses run by magical beings."

Harry remembered that Rowena had mentioned all magical beings had knowledge... perhaps that would help in showing that wizards weren't as stuck up as many creatures assumed. "Increase the percent for that by twenty-five as well for me, please."

Trenag's eyes widened and he said, "Yes sir!" A wizard who was treating them as equals? That was rare...

Harry looked through the entire list, which took him the better part of the morning, making changes. Trenag had sandwiches brought in for the boy, and in the mid-afternoon, Harry was finally finished with his many investments and the financial changes to them. Trenag was right—this _was_ too much for one person.

"I'm going to leave the properties and estates with you to look through at your leisure," Trenag said, giving Harry a _huge_ binder. "Many of them have tenants inside, being apartment complexes, stores, or other things. Might I suggest something?"

The boy gaped in shock—this was too much for him to own—and nodded.

"This shop you want to fund in a few years on Diagon Alley..." The goblin thought and said, "Perhaps make it a rather large enterprise? Might I inquire as to what kind of business it is?"

"A joke shop," Harry said quietly, waiting for the goblin to yell at him.

The goblin blinked a few times, surprised, and said, "Well... that's an enterprise I wasn't expecting... but it doesn't matter. To fund the property, pay the employees, all things like that... however, I was thinking you may want to start a business of your own. Give the money something to go into, and you'll be able to have a finance department. Perhaps... fund private research?"

Harry thought about it and smiled. "That might work, though I don't know _what_ I'd be funding or researching."

"Think about what interests you, or what you need. Have people work on that."

"I'll do that. Thanks." Harry looked at the huge list of estates and silently resolved to find a way to put everything he had just received to good use.

"Onto your vault, sir?" Trenag inquired, watching the boy stand and stretch.

"Yeah, please..." Harry said quietly. He followed the goblin onto the cart that led down. "You never told me the number of the vault," Harry said, thinking.

Trenag laughed, "Sir, no offense meant, but your vaults were from before we began numbering them. It's far below, and you are in for a long ride."

_Before they began numbering the vaults?_ Harry swallowed hard in disbelief and sat in the cart. The ride seemed to take ages, just as Trenag had warned him. It was very dark when the cart stopped, and Harry blinked in shock--a group of dragons and other creatures seemed to be guarding the vaults. Trenag stood in front of them and said something in Gobbledegook, causing a light to radiate from him into the vault--it looked almost like a scanner. The creatures stood away, allowing Harry to see the entrance to the vaults. "Whoa."

Trenag laughed at the boy's expression of shock and moved aside, "Go on."

Harry walked into the vault and stared around at everything inside of it. Gold, potions, skins, armor, weapons, different things Harry had never seen before... one small thing looking thing caught his attention. It was a small glass... no, it was a small, silver-framed mirror. He looked at the huge parchment that said "Instructions for Merlin's Glass."

"Okay... instructions... blah blah bl—ah?" Harry looked at a part and he jumped up shouting, "Myrddin, I bloody love you!"

_I've added quite a few things to this Glass: one is that the glass can see everywhere in the present, as well as the past. It can also be used as a door, for immediate transport to anywhere in the world. Just tell it where you want to go, tug at the frame till it's beg enough, and then step through. There are Words of Power that will activate other things, but I've also made it so that the Glass will respond to what __you_ _need or want at that moment. Consider this my gift to you for whatever reason._

Harry grinned and said softly to the glass, "I want to see Rowena, after she made that message in the gem for me." His reflection became dim and uncertain and soon... he saw her, sitting at her desk, writing.

"Rowena!" Harry whispered in astonishment, causing the woman to look up immediately. She turned and her jaw dropped.

"Harry?!" She smiled widely, "Merlin's Glass worked then. I am relieved."

"I don't know the words of power to let me back," Harry said quietly, sad as he hunted through the parchment looking for it.

"Tis fine, for now," Rowena murmured. "I am just relieved ye are well." She looked him up and down and said, "Hath we managed to help ye?"

"Yes," Harry said, smiling, unable to stop tears from falling. "I-I'm just so glad to see you..."

She smiled at him, "And I ye, child. Ye hath gotten thy freedom?"

"That's what I forgot!" Harry exclaimed, remembering. "I'll have to ask about it—thank you, Rowena."

She smiled at him and looked around. "The vault has changed a bit. Might ye show me more?"

"Of course." Harry lifted the Glass up and showed her the vault, as he looked around himself. He was beyond happy, being able to communicate with them now. Finally, they finished looking around at the vault.

"Child, I must go. Tis time for a class." Rowena looked at Harry and smiled, "Shall ye call for me again?"

"Oh yes," Harry said, grinning and feeling better than he had in a long time. Dumbledore hadn't counted on Merlin, not at all... The image of Rowena faded from the Glass, and Harry put it in his pocket. He would contact Merlin on it later and thank him. For now... he went through the vault, taking a bit of money with him—and froze, seeing an emerald, that shone just like the gems Harry had in his pocket now. Only one person would have emerald... he didn't want to pick it up just yet, but... Harry quickly put it in his pocket, relieved that no images showed up. He took a lot of the books and scrolls from the vault with him, putting them in a magical bag that was in the vault as well. "That's it for now, Trenag."

"Excellent, young Lord. Then let us return to the surface." On the long ride, Harry put the huge estate list in the bag with all of the other books as well.

He'd have to ask if the magical world had lawyers or something. Harry was pretty sure that him declaring freedom at thirteen would be a sticky legal situation.

It was early evening when Harry left the bank, and he stopped, feeling rather cold. It was dark... and Harry heard a slight rustling, like that of a cloak.

"_Lumos," _Harry said, stopping and staring. A tall, hooded creature stood on the other end of the cobbled street. "What on earth..."

It began to float towards Harry, when a Hogwarts house elf appeared. "Professor Wyllt, run!"

"What is it?"

"A dementor sir!" the elf squeaked.

Harry tried running, the elf trying to get away from the dementor... and Harry heard screaming... saw green light... he was so cold...

"_Expecto Patronum!"_ Harry saw a silvery tabby cat with spectacle eye markings run towards the dementors, causing them to vanish.

Someone knelt next to him—Harry couldn't even remembering _falling—_and forced some kind of potion into his mouth; Pepper-Up potion, from the taste. "Huh?" Harry blinked and saw... Snape? "Professor?"

"Minerva, are you alright?" Snape asked, ignoring Harry.

McGonagall came over to the two of them, "Dementors going after an innocent boy, the nerve... I want a word with the Ministry about this!"

"They won't listen," Snape muttered, returning his attention to Harry, scanning him.

McGonagall did the same, "Are you alright, Potter?"

"Y-yeah," Harry said, looking around and shuddering, clutching to Snape tightly. The man sneered as Harry quickly let go after realizing what he was doing and, surprising Harry, muttered a warming charm. Immediately, Harry felt better, but knew they'd lecture him for being off school grounds.

"... You shouldn't be here, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, looking at the boy. "But... what's done is done, I suppose. I came for a book. You can return to the school with Professor Snape and myself." The two teachers made sure Harry was able to walk and they headed towards the bookstore.

Harry looked at the two teachers, trying not to smile. Snape stood, in his traditional dark, scary way, and McGonagall gave off an imposing feel as well, though not as dark as Snape, of course. Harry smiled, wondering if he should have given the teachers a higher raise and mentally deciding he could do so later.

McGonagall picked up her book, and Snape picked up a few as well. Harry waited patiently, deciding that he would buy things through owl mail order, and they used floo powder to return to Hogwarts, just in time for dinner.

They went to the Staff Table and as Harry went to sit next to the twins at the Gryffindor Table, he heard Dumbledore shout. He looked and saw the Headmaster _covered_ in food, and the food continued throwing itself at him. Harry couldn't help but laugh. With friends like Fred and George, it wasn't hard to forgive Dumbledore—after all, they punished the man for him! Add that to the salary cap, and Harry was sure the Headmaster wouldn't be pleased with his decision for a long, long time...

Snape looked at McGonagall. "He could have been hurt if you hadn't saved him." He indicated the Gryffindor Table, so that she would know who "he" was.

"He could have stayed hurt if you didn't help him," McGonagall replied quietly, placing her food onto her plate. She looked at Dumbledore, who was storming out of the Great Hall. "He can't track these pranks to anyone, though I'm positive my House is playing a role."

Snape smirked, "Of course. He did anger someone in it. But I am curious as to why he didn't let Potter stay. Perhaps continued training there? He couldn't even handle dementors."

"Most likely, Albus wanted a hand in the training himself," McGonagall murmured, shaking her head. "Don't ask me to fathom how that man's brain works, because I have no idea."

"...Whatever he was planning, I know that he's regretting it," Snape muttered, shrugging. "When will you talk to your student about being out of bounds?"

"Later tonight, most likely." McGonagall sighed, "He's gone through so much already Severus..."

"He's still a student," Snape said quietly.

She sighed and sipped at her tea, the two silent now, watching the boy who so much was revolving around. Softly, McGonagall said, "Severus, all I want to do is protect our students, teach them and for them to be happy."

The man didn't have an answer to that, so he sipped his tea instead. McGonagall wasn't expecting him to reply, so the two just finished dinner, both of their minds on the young Harry Potter: his safety, education, and (in McGonagall's case, at least) happiness.

Harry, unaware of teachers' concerns about him, tapped Fred. "Hey, I have a question."

"Hm?" Fred and George both looked over.

"Are there lawyers in the wizarding world?"

The twins looked at each other, obviously confused by the term. "A what?"

"A lawyer. Someone who specializes in laws..." Harry trailed off, seeing them shake their heads.

George blinked, "What for?"

Harry lowered his voice and, after looking around and ensuring nobody was listening in, said, "I think I can legally get out of having a guardian."

The twins shared wide grins, "That'd be great, mate. You'd be able to stay with us!"

"Or _you_ could stay with _me_," Harry said, grinning. "I went to the bank today, remember? Apparently they invested in property and stuff. I'm pretty sure one of the places would be great after we fix it up. And I told Trenag--he's the goblin in charge of the stuff--that I'd be funding your shop in a few years."

"What?"

"Are you mental?"

"You can't--"

"--waste your money--"

"--on us!" This was said by both of them, their faces still astonished.

Harry laughed and said, "Why not? I'd have done it anyway. We need more laughs around here, with what's happened with Voltmeter in the past and Sirius Black escaping..." He looked down at his food.

"Well, if you insist, we'll take it, but you're going to be a partner." Fred's voice left no room for argument.

"But--"

"No buts," George said, looking around. He noticed Ron and Percy were both looking over at the three of them, both obviously wondering what was going on. "We'll talk later."

"Yeah..." Harry stood up. He desperately wanted to talk to Rowena again, and maybe Godric, but he knew that some things had to come first. "I'm going to go check if the library has anything about laws. How can there be no lawyers in the magical world? That's crazy..."

"We'll go with you," the twins said, standing up and leaving with the younger boy.

As they walked, Fred inquired, "So these people just work with laws?"

"Yeah. In the Muggle world, they do tons of law stuff, become judges, teach law, all kinds of things."

"Not here," George muttered.

"Yeah," Fred said quietly. "Here, you might get someone in good standing with the Wizengomet to defend you, and they'll let you off. Other than that, you're on your own."

Harry thought about this as they entered the library. Quietly, so Madam Pince wouldn't yell at them, he said, "Maybe I can change that."

"Eh?" the twins looked at him.

"Well... maybe I can start a magical law firm," Harry said, thinking it over. "I'd need to find people who know the law, though."

"Well, if anyone can find them, it'll be you," George said, shrugging. "But like we said downstairs--we'll take the funding if you'll agree to be partners."

"All right," Harry said, knowing they meant it. They separated, Harry finally finding a small law section, and staring in disbelief--it wasn't empty.

Draco Malfoy sat there, reading a large tome about law. Harry had never seen this look on Malfoy's face--absorbed in his reading, no sneer or anything. He looked... normal. The look was lost when he looked up and saw Harry standing there. "What do _you_ want, Potter?" He sneered.

"Just wanted to read up on some laws," Harry admitted, wondering why Malfoy, of all people...

Wait. He was judging Malfoy by family. If he had judged Tobias... _how often were people judged because of something stupid? Ron and Hermione were supposed to be friends, and look. Maybe Malfoy isn't a complete arse. A prick, to be sure, but might be of help if it's a matter of influence with the Ministry._ Harry forced himself out of his thoughts, and Malfoy was saying,

"--above the law anyway."

"What?"

Malfoy looked at Harry and rolled his eyes, "I _said_ that everyone knows the great Harry Potter is above the law anyway. What would _you_ need it for?"

"I'm not above the law," Harry said quietly.

"All of you Gryffs are," Malfoy replied jeeringly. "You're just too blind and naive to notice."

_What is he talking about? _"What do you mean?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and ignored Harry, returning to his reading. Harry glared at the blond-haired boy and said, "You can't even defend your claim, Malfoy?"

That seemed to get to him, because he slammed his hand down and looked up, "You want proof? Fine. Dumbledore's got the Ministry eating out of his hands, everyone knows it. And to Dumbledore, you Gryffs can do no wrong. You, Weasley and Granger broke the rules first year and got the House Cup for it. You broke how many rules last year and still got the prize? We try doing that, we'd be in trouble for sure. One of you Gryffs get in trouble with the Ministry, Dumbledore will do everything he can to try and stop it. All of us can go to Azkaban, but not you? The only Gryff who was in Azkaban was Sirius Black, and that's cause of _you_." Malfoy smirked, "You, looking at laws? Ha. All you have to do is show up, little Harry Potter, and everyone will be eating out of your hand."

Harry stared at Malfoy for a long time, and finally said, "I never _asked_ to be famous, Malfoy. My parents died trying to save me and _Dumbledore_ stuck me with my aunt and uncle who hate me! They stuck me in a bloody _cupboard_ for _ten years_. I didn't even know about magic til I got my letter to come here! Don't think you know _anything_ about me or the other Gryffindors. Everywhere we go, people like your father are there to block our way. As for the law, I want to get away from my relatives. I want to be free, and I can't, because Dumbledore controls the Ministry, like you said, and I need to get through their laws and beat them at their own game to get what I want."

Malfoy looked at Harry for a bit and scoffed, saying nothing more. Harry glared at him and went to the bookshelf, grabbing a book titled _A Grimoire of Magical Laws and Legal History_. He sat at the same table, almost daring Malfoy to say something. When the Slytherin didn't, Harry began reading.

They were there a long time, neither saying anything to the other, when Crabbe and Goyle came up from the Great Hall to find their "fearless leader." They stared at Harry, unsure of what to do because Harry Potter, a Gryffindor, was sitting near Malfoy. "Uh," they grunted.

"I'm reading," Malfoy said coolly. "Come back later."

"Kay," they grunted, leaving. Harry raised an eyebrow--did he control them _that_ much? He didn't say anything, though, even when Malfoy shot him a smirk. They were there until the library was closing, and they ended up leaving together, saying nothing to each other.

Harry hadn't learned much that would help him yet, and though that irked him a bit, it didn't depress him as much as it normally would have; after all, now he was going to go to the chamber he had made and talk to Rowena and Godric... and maybe later, if it wasn't too late, he would contact Merlin and thank him.

As Harry walked to his dorm, waiting, he slid his hand into his pocket to make sure everything was there--and stopped, feeling the gems. _The green stone._ He still had to see if it was whom he thought... Harry looked around. Darn it, too many people... he couldn't listen here...

And then he saw a faint glimmer of light that didn't even last a second. And he knew: _the Versatile Stair._ Perfect. He quickly stepped onto it and directed the stair to the Keep. The room was no longer dusty--perhaps the elves had cleaned it. Harry smiled and rearranged the window, going to the window where he had first found the gems. _This_ room was still dusty. _"Scourgify,"_ Harry said, looking around with a grin. The room seemed cleaner, and after repeating the spell, it seemed to shine. Finally, Harry took out the gems, holding onto the green one for a few moments before the image he had expected arrived. His guess had been correct; Salazar stood there, alone.

He seemed the same, with grayer hair and a few wrinkles. He had aged well. Harry even missed _him_.

"Salutations young Lord Wyllt," Salazar said softly, his hunter green eyes boring into Harry's and a small smile spread onto his face, "Or should I call ye young sir Potter?"

**A/N: I tried to make it longer. Let me know if I succeeded to your satisfaction! Updates usually take a bit longer, but have essays and finals to think about, so here you are!  
**


	21. Chapter 21

**21.**

Harry stared in disbelief at the visage of Salazar, who just stood, amusement evident on his face. "Many different styles of speech I have heard, young one, in my visions. I shall use the one I have heard with you." The man seemed to toy with the word before shrugging and continuing, "Many of my visions, many more of them, seem to revolve around you, Harry. Seeing you survive everything that _my_ bloodline has done..." The man shook his head, saddened. "I am sorry, so sorry, for what that fool of my descendant has done. I see now why you were a bit more wary of me. But... I know you did not want my firstborn, or any of my children. In this case, however, I can understand you demanding your price from him. His life is forfeit, Harry. I do not mean kill him--you would not if that is what you had to rely on. I mean..." It was obviously distasteful to say, but Salazar continued, "I mean to say that time has strengthened the bond. Essentially, he is bound to you, much like a house elf would be to its family. Invoke the debt owed you. He claims he is my heir... then he shall reap what my bloodline owes to you."

_Invoke the debt?_ Harry shut his eyes, thinking. That would make things much easier, fighting Voldemort... But to have someone as a servant? As a slave? Harry had practically been a human house elf for the Dursleys, and he hadn't liked it at all! How could he condemn someone to do something like that?

"I understand you will be reluctant. You do not need to use him as a house elf," Salazar's image continued, making Harry look at him in shock, "but perhaps forcing him to adhere to whatever the sentence for his crimes are... making him find all of those who serve him; essentially, using him against his own army, may assist greatly. It is ultimately your decision, of course, but I do believe something along those lines will be the easiest for you."

Harry slowly nodded, imagining it. If Voldemort was forced to listen to Harry and nothing else... then there would be no Death Eaters, because Voldemort would have them called together and rounded up. They wouldn't dare go against their Lord... The boy slowly smiled; that _would_ be easiest for him, and it would make Voldemort pay for his crimes by the law, not by some vengeance dictated by Harry.

"Lastly, young one, I have left _you_ as the heir to my estate. I believe the last of my bloodline is unworthy of my name and belongings. He may have used much already, but whatever is in my bloodline is yours, except, of course, for the debt. Harry... I cannot leave you much else... but I shall tell you this. I have seen many things, and I can tell you that your future has great things in store. Live as you see fit, and the rest shall fall into place. Go well, young Lord." With that, the image was gone.

Harry stared at the green stone and placed it with the others. The four reunited, even if it was just images of them. Harry sat in a chair and thought. What was he supposed to _do_? He was just meant to take down Voldemort--he couldn't do anything in the school as long as Dumbledore was there, even if he was the Heir and Headmaster. At the same time, he couldn't just run from his responsibility--he _had_ to do what was best for the students. But first he had to get rid of the laws binding him. To do that he had to...

The boy sighed, not liking this. No matter what, in the end, the same person stood in his way: Dumbledore. And the only way he could get around the man was by memorizing the laws and telling the world who he was. Harry looked at Merlin's Glass and smiled. He'd have proof here, in the person, that they had taken him in and given him his freedom... but would it be enough? Perhaps time laws... Harry sighed. He'd have to learn more, that was the only way around it. Figuring he'd talk to Rowena and the others later, Harry went to his dorm and slept.

The next morning, when the owls were delivering letters, Harry eating his breakfast, everyone stopped to stare as a rather large bat, holding a letter, flew to Harry, holding the scroll in its feet. Harry, after glancing around, slowly took the parchment and opened it.

_Hello Lord Wyllt!  
I am Donovitch, leader of the Dwarves. We have lived for many years on land approved by your Ministry. It is __not good land. It is very marshy and swampy--not good for tunneling or living in at all.  
I write this because Trenag, a Goblin respected among many of us beings, has said you view us as equals. I was hoping that due to this fact, you would help us in finding better land. Trenag implied that you may be able to help us with this endeavor, but I had to be willing to ask. For my people, I am willing to ask and beg, just please, Lord Wyllt, if it pleases you, help us.  
Thank you,  
Donovitch, Leader of the Dwarf Tribes.  
_  
Harry blinked at the letter and re-read it, then looked at Fred and George, who were next to him, and showed them. The twins blinked, obviously intrigued. "Dwarves, though?" Fred murmured, raising an eyebrow.

"They've been after equal rights for a long time. So have the goblins," George said, thinking.

"Did you do anything that made them think you thought they were equals?" Fred finished, knowing that his twin was thinking the same thing.

Harry shrugged, "I increased the percent of income for a lot of things, including businesses run by the goblins and other creatures."

The twins shared looks and nodded, "Well... what are you going to do?" They indicated the letter and Fred suddenly grinned. "Ah, right on time..."

Dumbledore had just entered the Great Hall. As he walked, his robes began changing colors and then transformed into a squid. Shouting, the Headmaster left the Great Hall, the squid chasing after him. Harry just shook his head, "A _squid_?"

"We couldn't think of anything else," the twins chorused, making the boy shake his head.

"Poor man."

"He deserves that and a lot worse," George said quietly. Harry had nothing to say about that, and it was obvious neither twin was expecting him to. George looked back at the letter that Harry had given them, "So what are you going to do about this?" Inter-Species Relationships were always strained at best... but if any wizard could change that, George was sure it would be Harry.

"Hm." Harry pondered for a few minutes and finally said, "I think I'm going to ask Trenag about it." He stood up and left, the twins with him. They walked through a few hallways, silent.

"You'd better hurry up--you don't want to be late for class," Fred pointed out after a few minutes, breaking the companionable silence.

Harry nodded and separated from the twins, grasping Merlin's Glass. He took the Versatile Stair to the chamber that he had found the gems in, the chamber that he had cleaned... Harry looked out the window. Softly, he murmured, "Nobody shall ever know about this room unless I authorize it." He knew the school would accommodate his request. Finally, he took out Merlin's Glass and said the Word of Power, then specified, "I'd like to speak with Trenag, please, if it's possible."

Soon, the goblin appeared in the mirror, obviously thrown off by Harry's ability to contact him. "Sir Wyllt--"

"Just Harry, please," the boy said quietly. He was still uncomfortable with all of the titles he had been given.

Trenag nodded and said, "... Harry, sir, to what do I owe this honor?"

"I was sent a letter by someone named Donovitch."

The goblin nodded, "The Dwarf Leader. He mentioned he might write to you, I had no idea it would be so soon."

"Yeah..." Harry looked at the letter. "He mentioned something about land..?"

"_Ah_." Trenag nodded, "The Ministry, it allots land for us. Dwarves like mineral-rich land. The Ministry thinks they'll be uncontrollable if they're given areas like that." At Harry's confused look, Trenag continued, "Dwarves like to build things, much like us goblins. The Ministry cuts back on that--there's no reason for us to want to make things like that. On Ministry lands, we have to adhere by their rules."

Harry wasn't stupid. He knew what the dwarf wanted. "Private land with minerals means they'll be bound by my rules, though."

The goblin slowly nodded and then said, quite truthfully, "I don't think anything you'd want would be worse than the Ministry's regulations. But... what would you want?" The boy_ was _a wizard, they always had tricks up their sleeves...

Harry shrugged, "Basically for them to not hurt anyone, to stay hidden, and if I bring people with me, we'd be welcome. Well, me and people I'd tell you about."

"That _cannot_ be it." Trenag was staring at Harry in disbelief.

The boy shrugged, confused by the disbelieving reaction. He explained his rationalization, "You guys aren't stupid or little children. I have enough to worry about with school and other things. Besides, you guys have run things long before I was around. I'm pretty sure things won't suddenly collapse if you run your own land." Harry took out the binder full of his estates. "You've got a copy, right? As long as whoever it is approaches me first so I know who is on my property, would you mind handling the land stuff?"

Trenag shook his head, "I don't mind... but if that is your attitude, I would like to request land for us goblins as well, Lo--" seeing Harry's glare, Trenag quickly amended his comment, "I mean, Harry." It was odd, calling a wizard by name, who didn't force them to use his titles...

The boy shrugged, "Sure. Like I said, you'll be in charge, I just need to give first approval, okay?"

"Yes sir!" Trenag was astonished--for a _human_ boy to so easily give them equality?At that moment, Trenag knew that he and his people would follow Harry Potter-Wyllt anywhere, cheerfully fight and even die for the boy if needed. He knew the Dwarf Tribes would have similar feelings, and they would most likely want to meet with the boy in person, just to thank him.

Harry looked at the letter and back at Trenag, "I didn't get anything from anyone else. But if the Dwarves found me, others can too, right?"

"Yes." Trenag nodded.

Harry smiled and looked at his watch, "Well, if you need me, just write or use this—I'll always have Merlin's Glass on me, but I might be in class, so you might have to wait a little."

"Of course. Have a nice day, s—Harry, and I shall be sure to inform you of the updates of your estate."

"Thanks!" Harry cut off the connection and, after safely tucking away Merlin's Glass, ran to his first class. The day passed by rather quickly, Harry ignoring all of Ron's continued glares towards him. Finally, it was as Harry was going to lunch that Ron decided glaring wasn't enough.

"Alright Harry, why are you being so weird?" Ron demanded, grabbing the black-haired boy by the shoulder and shoving him into an empty classroom, while everyone else went to the Great Hall. "Hermione said you don't want to be friends with us anymore."

Harry straightened his uniform and said quietly, "I'm sure she told you everything, Ron. So please leave me alo--"

Ron pushed Harry, shoved him rather hard too, and Harry debated for a moment before deciding that it would not be wise to shoot off a spell immediately. He was angry, yes, but Ron hadn't hurt him yet. "You just have to have everything, don't you? You're rich, famous, Mum and Dad adore you and the twins even like you!" Ron was glaring now at Harry, and the boy knew that this was more than just recent stuff—this was stuff Ron had been keeping bottled up for some time. "Being Dumbledore's favorite, rich, famous, and getting whatever you want isn't enough for you, is it?! My parents, my _sister_ is head over heels about you and you just ignore her, and now you're taking my brothers from me too?!"

_What?_ "Your _brothers_ are the only people who seemed to have been able to use their common sense and realize the headmaster was lying about me!" Harry said, angry. "As for the other stuff—what on earth is _wrong_ with you?! You saw how the Dursleys treated me! _You saw it!"_

Ron glared, "How do I know you didn't deserve something like that, huh?"

_Is he serious?_ Harry stared at the other boy, silent for a bit. _He's jealous. He's jealous of a boy who has had every adult who ever gave a damn about him taken away. He doesn't even realize how lucky he is._.. "Is that what you'd do, then, Ron? Lock up a child in his room with bars on the window? Is that the kind of parent you would be?"

"Well, what did you do to them?" Ron demanded. "Because you won't even talk to me or Hermione, how am I supposed to trust anything you've ever done or said?"

Harry shook his head and turned to leave.

"See, I'm right!"

"No," Harry said quietly. "I just can't get through to you, Ron, and I'm not going to sit here and fight a losing battle. You're jealous of me. Fine. Be jealous. I can't change you." Harry left the room, ignoring the shouting from Ron, ignoring the hurtful words.

No longer hungry, Harry walked to the library, going to the law section and stopping. Malfoy sat there, reading, once again. The blond-haired boy looked up and, upon seeing Harry, rolled his eyes and returned to his book.

Harry picked up _A Grimoire of Magical Laws and Legal History_ once more, starting where he had left off. The two were silent for the entire time, ignoring each other for most of lunch until Malfoy spoke. "What you said yesterday, about your relatives and everything... was that true?"

Harry looked at the other boy, thrown off by the question. "Why would I lie about it?"

Malfoy looked down and said nothing for a long time. Harry went back to his reading, but Malfoy interrupted once more. "Why would _you_ be going up against Dumbledore?"

"I told you why." Harry replied softly. "What do you care for anyway?"

The other boy said nothing for a bit, then said, "Because if you _can_ beat him, then that means you have more influence with the Ministry than him. And that's good to know."

_The hat did want to put me in Slytherin_... Harry thought about that fact and decided to go for broke. "So would you, if you worked with me and helped me put up a defense."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "I don't need your help for getting my way."

"No? When Voldemort comes back, you might," Harry said quietly, making the boy go paler. "I can promise you this... his influence will be _gone_. Do whatever you want with the warning, but I'm telling you that now—it's a fact." Harry lifted his head to meet the other boy's eyes. "I'm giving you a win-win situation. You have influence now. Imagine then, what they'll do for you if they see we can actually work together? What they'll do when you want something and I lend my voice to the cause?"

Malfoy stared at Harry for a long time, saying nothing. He didn't reply when lunch ended—he stood up and left with the bell. Harry sighed and wondered if he had come off the wrong way... if the last few years were too much to ask the Slytherin to get over. He _knew_ Malfoy had to know more about laws in the magical world than he did.

Harry attended his afternoon classes, did his homework and returned to the law section. Malfoy was reading a different book than he had been earlier, and Harry knew it was better to not push the issue any more. He picked up the book he had been reading earlier and continued reading. About an hour passed before someone came up to their section. Harry looked over—Pansy Parkinson. Oh joy. Slytherins all over the law section today...

"Draco, you wanted to see me?" She gave Harry a dirty look but said nothing about him being there.

The other boy nodded and looked at Harry, "Potter here made me a deal earlier. I thought you might be interested in hearing it." At seeing Harry's face, Malfoy continued, "Any deal made to me has to be made where Pansy can hear, Potter. She is my betrothed—our families decided this when we were born."

_The family decision can be broken, though... Salazar broke it..._ Harry forced his train of thoughts away from that and nodded. "I see. I told Malfoy that if he'd be willing to help me with something legal wise, it would be a win-win situation. Voldemort won't be able to give you that influence—that's a promise."

Pansy tilted her head and sat next to Malfoy, her eyes on Harry. Malfoy spoke quietly, "I don't trust you, Potter. But I've seen how the Weasel and the Mudbl--"

"Please refrain from that word in my presence," Harry said softly. "My mother was Muggleborn." _Both of them were, truth be told_.

"... I've seen how the two of them have been acting towards you," Malfoy said, putting aside the urge to say something sarcastic. "I don't like you. I don't trust you. And I know you can't stand me. Why ask me for help?"

"Because I need someone who won't be a pawn," Harry said quietly. "You do this, you're doing it to help yourself out. Makes you do more."

Pansy chuckled, making both boys look over. "I see. Draco's incentive comes from the fact that you're _not_ Dumbledore. _You're_ not one of the old man's pawns. So the influence that he holds, you're trying to break. And if Draco helps, he gets some of the reward, you get some of the help you desperately need because you don't know how these things work. And if you lose, his reputation goes downhill too."

"I won't lose with help," Harry said softly. "But even if I did, your father will retain his sphere of influence... probably even laugh it off as a boy trying to play a man's political game."

Malfoy smirked, staying silent.

"Also... what if I gave you a monetary reason for assisting me?" Harry looked up, knowing that bit had their attention. "A future path and payment. All you have to do is use your knowledge of law."

"There's no career in law," Malfoy said softly. "If there could be, my father wouldn't tell me studying it was a waste of time."

"What if we changed that?" Harry looked all around, silently willing the school to make this area, for a bit, unable to be eavesdropped on. "What if I can guarantee you that your hobby can be profitable _and_ you'll be respected?"

"I've said I don't trust you, Potter. Give me proof."

"Lawyers." Harry said softly. "I know you hate the Muggle world, but bear with me. They have lawyers, people who specialize in laws—even teach it. Why can't we do that here in the magical world?"

"Nobody would use that service," Malfoy scoffed. "You need to have someone who is in good with the Wizengomet or you need to know your law..." He trailed off, staring at Harry in disbelief as he said slowly, "or you need to know your law well enough so that nobody would be able to find loopholes in sentencing you."

"You're permitted witnesses and a defense in trials," Harry said softly. "I've read up on that much."

Pansy and Malfoy shared looks—perhaps Potter's idea wasn't so insane after all. And if they were the only law people, lawyers or whatever... then they'd have influence and a steady influx of business. Pansy nodded to Malfoy and shrugged slightly—meaning it was his decision, but what could they lose?

"All right," Malfoy said decisively. "You want to be legally emancipated from having a guardian. We've got a lot of work to do." The two began pouring over books and discussion, Pansy taking her leave. Potter had a brain after all, a cunning one at that. Perhaps he had been placed in the wrong House... or the right one, thinking about it. It would look much better to the Ministry that two "rivals" had grown up and were working together.

Hours later, Harry and Draco left the library, exhausted but they still had a lot of work to do. Harry was walking towards Gryffindor Tower when he saw Flitwick. "Oh! Professor," he said, going to the short man.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Flitwick squeaked, smiling at the boy.

"I looked around for some information about the stuff I asked you about," Harry said, pulling out one of the books he had taken from the vault. "This_ ciel de render_ thing, maybe that was it?" Harry knew it was the spell, but he had to make it look as if he had found it.

Flitwick's eyes widened as he read over the various items in the book. "May I borrow this, Mr. Potter? I know it's not a library book."

Harry nodded and said, beaming, "If you can get these," he indicated the thick horn-rimmed glasses and Flitwick chuckled, "off of me, you can borrow it as long as you want, sir."

The teacher smiled and began scanning through the book, murmuring about different theories after thanking Harry profusely and leaving. Harry shrugged and grinned. He began walking towards Gryffindor Tower again, when a voice softly, from an invisible form, murmured, "Professor Wyllt, be on guard."

_Edward_. _What's going on?_ Harry glanced around confused, but soon the reason became clear for the warning. Dumbledore saw him and smiled, "Ah, Mr. Potter, there you are!"

"Sir," Harry said, raising an eyebrow. What would the man want with him _now_?

The Headmaster twirled his beard around his finger, obviously a bit nervous. "Harry, I've been wanting to talk to you--"

"And you should know, sir, that I am busy being a student." Harry tried to walk past the man.

"Yes... of course... however, if you were busy just trying to be a student, you wouldn't be breaking the rules and leaving the grounds." Dumbledore smiled pleasantly, "Students--"

"Students with approval from their guardians can leave the grounds, sir," Harry said quietly. "It's in _Hogwarts, A History_."

"But you do _not_ have approval, Mr. Potter." The voice was slowly losing its calm, and it was becoming more strict. "You are breaking school rules--"

"I'm not, and you know it," Harry said, forcing himself to not show his anger or irritation. It was hard work.

Dumbledore chuckled, amused, "Mr. Potter, even guardians cannot approve trips to Diagon Alley."

"Funny that you should say that, _sir_. The school adheres to the policies that govern it, so if students weren't supposed to leave the grounds, I wouldn't have been allowed." _Though the whole Heir thing throws that off..._

"Potter, there you—Headmaster?" McGonagall seemed a bit confused at seeing Dumbledore there.

"I was just having a word with Mr. Potter, Minerva, about his being off school grounds," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

McGonagall did not seem as in good a mood. "Correct me if I'm wrong Dumbledore, but seeing as _I'm_ the Head of Potter's House, I'm the one who should speak with him about the incident?"

Dumbledore smiled at her, eyes twinkling, "Of course, Minerva, I was just having a word as well, but you are quite right. Go on with Professor McGonagall, Harry." He left the two of them standing in the hallway staring after him.

"Were you really looking for me?" Harry finally asked.

"Actually, yes," McGonagall said. "Come along." Harry followed her as she led the way to her office. He sat quietly, figuring it would be better to wait and see what the woman wanted before saying anything. McGonagall poured herself some tea and sipped before speaking, "Potter, I know that you time traveled, but I do not see how it led to this change in attitude. I do know that I recently received a raise, due to someone called 'Lord Wyllt.' Seeing as that should be you, that means you're in charge of the salaries here?"

Harry just nodded.

"Thank you, but... Potter, you're a student. These are worries you shouldn't be concerning yourself with." McGonagall said this quietly.

"Nobody cared I was a student when I fought Voldemort twice," Harry said softly. "Sirius Black doesn't seem to care. I can't just ignore all of that." He looked down at his feet, unsure of what to think. He wasn't used to people being worried about him. Rowena had changed that a bit, but... by and large, he still wasn't really used to it. He looked at McGonagall, "I can't and won't run from my responsibilities, Professor."

She stared at her student for a long time, wondering when he had grown so much. Perhaps the things he had learned in the past were more important than she had originally thought. McGonagall knew that she couldn't just demand that he not worry about things—he was right, they _were_ his responsibility, despite his youth. "Potter," it was said softly, "I understand how you feel, and you're right, they are your duties. But taking care of you is _my_ duty, and I cannot do it if you are running off, especially with Sirius Black on the loose." She looked at Harry, "If you want to leave the school grounds for something that pertains to your duties, please tell Professor Snape or myself. He knows about your time traveling as well, and though he might not show it or say anything positive, he will allow you to do what you must."

Harry nodded; he hadn't expected her to be so lenient or understanding. "I'm sorry I didn't think of that, Professor, and I'll try to remember to do so in the future."

She smiled, a rare one, "Thank you, Mr. Potter. You may go."

He stood up and left, relieved. There was so much to do, Harry couldn't even really keep track of it all. He ate in the kitchens, Helena and Edward joining him. Finally, in his small chamber above the Keep, Harry pulled out Merlin's Glass, activated it and soon, Rowena was in front of him once more.

"Ah, child!" She smiled and pulled someone over. Harry grinned broadly.

"Hey Godric!"

The man looked the same as his image in the orb, "Lad! I am glad to see ye well!" Godric looked him up and down and smiled. "How art ye?"

"I'm... I'm exhausted, but good."

Rowena nodded, "Tis a lot of work."

"Oh yes," Harry agreed, sitting and propping the mirror onto the small table. He stretched and continued, "I don't know what to do. Everything seems to be rushing by and I'm just going with it."

Godric nodded and Rowena looked worried. "Are ye all right? Do ye need potions?"

Harry shook his head, "I'm alright, honest. Just not used to all this work."

The two nodded and the topic soon turned to other things, like how their days had been, how things had changed, and what Harry was going to do now. Finally, he shut down the mirror and went to his dorm to sleep.

The days passed in a flurry of activities. His normal school work, then studying law with Draco and preparing his argument, talking about different Charms with Flitwick (who had finally managed to get rid of Harry's glasses), talking with the various different creatures... Harry barely had the energy to contact Rowena, Godric and Merlin (he had thanked the man profusely) at night.

The day of Harry's hearing had _finally_ arrived, and he was going over the defense and statement once more when Draco asked, "What are you going to wear?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "Does it matter, as long as my point is right?" The hearing was for late in the afternoon.

Draco stared at Harry as if the other boy had just said the stupidest thing ever. "Yes, it matters. Appearance does wonders."

"Oh." Harry shrugged once more and Draco rubbed his forehead, obviously trying not to give into his irritation.

"Something tells me we have a lot of work to do... Millicent knows about fashion and looks, come on." He led the way, dragging Harry through the dungeons and placing him in an empty room. "Stay here."

"Okay," Harry said, wondering what was going to happen. Soon, all of the Slytherins from Harry's year had come to the room, all of them lugging trunks and other things. "What the heck?!" Harry asked, staring.

Millicent looked him up and down, "Alright, first, we'll have to fix his hair..."

"What's wrong with my hair?!" Harry demanded. "It's a bit messy, sure, but—"

"They're going to make you look presentable," Draco said, indicating Millicent and Pansy. "Now shut up and be grateful. The rest of us are going to watch the Quidditch match. Enjoy!" This was said to the two females as the four Slytherin boys left.

Harry sighed and allowed the two females to comb and wash and whatever else they were doing. While Pansy worked on his hair, Millicent was holding up different colors and nodding or frowning. "Are you alright with wearing a suit?" She asked. At Harry's shrug, she beamed and began cutting fabric and measuring it.

_Is this how a mannequin feels?_ Harry thought as they moved him and continued trying different clothes on him. At long last, the two females stepped back. It felt like _ages_ had passed. "Take a look," Millicent said, holding a mirror.

Harry stared—was that _him_? His hair was straight, and it was longer than he had thought it'd be. It was held in a ponytail with a black ribbon. His bangs still covered his scar, but without the glasses, the look seemed quite nice. He had on black suit, with a black cape that looked rather business-oriented. He looked at the two and asked, "Well?"

"Much better than when you came in," Pansy said, smiling. The door opened and Draco stood there, Blaise with him. The two looked at Harry, and Draco nodded.

"Better. Millicent, you work wonders." Draco looked Harry up and down, "How are you getting there anyway?"

"I told Professor McGonagall about it. She's bringing me," Harry said. "Thanks, Millicent, Pansy." He picked up his folder with all of his information in it and followed Draco out to the Great Hall. From there, Harry went alone to McGonagall's office.

She blinked, seeing him dressed up, but said nothing. "Ready?"

"Yes, Professor."

She tossed a bit of Floo Powder into her fireplace and said, "The Ministry of Magic, main entrance!"

"After you," Harry said politely. She smiled and went through, Harry right after her. He got rid of the soot with a cleaning spell, and followed McGonagall through the Ministry. Finally, they reached the courtroom where the Wizengomet would be hearing Harry's case.

"I'll wait for you out here, Potter. Hurry up and win." McGonagall made a chair appear, along with a book, and began reading. Harry smiled, grateful for the woman's confidence, and he stepped into the room.

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of him, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry an ominous silence fell. There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Dumbledore. A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair sat on his left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding. On Dumbledore's right was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it.

Dumbledore looked at the boy, a sad expression on his face. Harry kept his face blank, the way Draco had instructed him. _"Good Lord, Potter, it's like you wear your emotions on your sleeve. Keep your face neutral, you'll be able to throw them off and they won't know what you're up to."_

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Harry replied, nodding to the man.

"Now that you are here, we shall begin."Dumbledore looked down the row, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," said a voice. Harry looked and saw an older man sitting there, a quill in his hands. Upon seeing Harry gazing at him, the man smiled at him. Harry gave him a small smile back and sat down, looking up at the Wizengomet.

"Custody hearing on the twelfth of December," said Dumbledore in his usual calm, serene voice, and the scribe began taking notes at once, "requested by Harry James Potter, resident, at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey and student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Dumbledore pushed up his glasses and looked at Harry, "So, Mr. Potter—why are you here?"

"I would like to be registered as an emancipated minor, sir," Harry replied. "My current relatives are not fit to be the guardians of a magical being, and my magical guardian has explicitly left me my freedom."

"Your magical guardian?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "Sirius Black is a wanted criminal, Mr. Potter--"

"I'm aware of that, sir," Harry said. "I was not referring to my godfather. I was referring to the Lady Rowena Ravenclaw."

Whispers immediately began at those words, and Dumbledore stared at Harry. "Ravenclaw has been dead for centuries, Mr. Potter."

Harry fingered Merlin's Glass in his pocket and said, "But the magical law states that a child's guardian has the right, does it not? Nothing is mentioned about a time limit on it."

"That is true, but how do you know she was referring to _you_ in her will?" Fudge inquired, obviously curious.

Harry smiled—he had hoped that question would come up. "Because in her Will, she says 'Harry James Potter-Wyllt, resident, at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey and student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Long story made short, Minister, due to a freak occurrence of magic, I was sent back to that time era. I went by the name Harry Wyllt there."

Dumbledore stared at Harry, but the boy kept his face expressionless. _Yes, I told them the truth. What are you going to do about it?_

"You are too young to be an emancipated minor," Dumbledore said.

"Not true. We have no age limit in the magical world," Harry said, looking at them. "The youngest case to date has been fifteen, true, but that does not make it mandatory."

"Er, not to be crazy," the woman next to Dumbledore said, "but this shouldn't even be a case. The boy's magical guardian's will can be looked up right away. If he's correct, then he's emancipated, if not, then he isn't."

Dumbledore stared at Harry, who looked back defiantly. Finally, conceding, the older man said, "Very well. Mr. Potter, do you have a copy of this will?"

"Yes, sir." Harry presented the will to the Wizengomet, and waited. Soon enough...

"The Wizengomet declares Harry James Potter-Wyllt to be an emancipated minor, to be treated as an adult in all manners." With that, the hearing was closed. Harry locked eyes with the Headmaster, who nodded his head slightly to him. Harry did the same and left the chamber, relieved that was all over.

McGonagall looked up at him, and he smiled. "You were right, Professor. I won."

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," she said quietly, leaving with the boy and returning back to Hogwarts.

"Professor?" Harry said quietly, not leaving her office. "What if... Hogwarts isn't the best thing for my future?"

McGonagall looked at him and, after a few moments of thought, said, "You may have to decide what is, then. And if it isn't Hogwarts, then you need to do what is." She knew what she was doing, and if she had to let Harry Potter go in order for him to be happy... then McGonagall was prepared to make that sacrifice.

The boy nodded and left the office, telling the twins, the Slytherins, the ghosts, the creatures, and lastly, the Founders about his success. After that, he went to the library and began looking through his binder at his various estates, looking for a smaller one that would be fine for just himself. Finding one that seemed suitable, Harry began planning on visiting it. He would finish this year at Hogwarts, and then...

Well, and then he'd do what needed to be done. At least his needs wouldn't be a problem. And though he was tempted to return to Rowena's time, especially now that he was legally free... Harry knew that he couldn't. He had responsibilities and duties here. And he couldn't bring her to him—she had things binding her to her time too.

Communication was possible, though, and for that much, Harry was grateful. He shut his eyes, thinking. He had a lot of work to do. A joke shop, a law firm... at least he didn't have to deal with the Dursleys... Harry slowly smiled, his mind figuring it out, at long last.

He finally knew what he wanted to do with his life.


	22. Chapter 22

**22.**

It was late at night, and Harry was awake in the Common Room, researching. There was no magical primary school, nothing set up in the Ministry for orphaned children... nothing at all.

Harry looked at the parchment next to him, littered with scribbles. He knew what he wanted to do: he wanted to make sure nobody had to go through the things he had. He wanted a place for _magical_ beings to be able to live if they were orphaned . If such a place had existed, would Tom Riddle ever have become Voldemort? Harry didn't know, but he knew that wouldn't be a question in the future.

But if he was going to have an orphanage for all magical beings, he would need for them to have an education. And from his research, there was no primary magical school in all of Europe. Only secondary schools... and Harry wanted to change that. There were no laws against primary schools, from what he had looked up, and he'd double check with Draco later.

"Harry? Why are you awake, it's 3 in the morning," Fred said, looking at the younger boy. He had woken up and had figured he'd sneak to the kitchens for a butterbeer. Seeing Harry awake had distracted him, though.

Harry smiled, pleased, and said, "I'm researching." He knew that, if he did all he wanted, he wouldn't have the resources of the Hogwarts Library for much longer.

"And... the library's not going anywhere," Fred sat next to the boy and looked over the stuff. "Education? Psychology? Finance? Estate? Law, no surprise there... these are some random topics. Why'd you grab these?"

Harry nodded, "Library's not, but _I_ am." He looked through his notes and looked at Fred, "I'm going to start a school, a primary one, for magical beings, and an orphanage."

Fred blinked, surprised by the determination in that comment. He was pretty sure he knew why Harry was starting those things. "Making sure people don't have to go through what you did?"

"Yeah." Harry looked at his hands and asked, "Fred, you remember last year, right? With the Dursleys?"

"How could I ever forget?" Fred asked softly, angry at the memory. Locked in a room like an animal... just the memory was enough to make him want to find Harry's relatives and rip them to shreds.

Harry swallowed hard and quietly asked the question that had been nagging him in the back of his mind ever since Ron had said it, "You don't think... that I could have deserved it, do you?"

Fred stared at Harry and said, "What the _hell _made you think that you might have deserved _that_?!"

Harry sighed, figuring there'd be no way around it. "Ron." From the clenching of Fred's fist, Harry was pretty sure the older boy would be having a few words with his younger brother. "Hey, don't worry about it," Harry said, trying to keep the peace. "I'm fine with him being wrong, you don't need to get worked up."

"When your brother's an idiot, it's cause to be concerned," Fred said darkly, glaring at the table. Regaining his calm, he said, "So... you're leaving?"

"Yeah. Since I'm legally an adult and all of that, I don't have to stay here." Harry shrugged, "McGonagall's been helping me out a lot, so maybe she can figure out something. I know there's homeschooling in the Muggle World--maybe she would know where I can find the magical equivalent."

"Using big words now… you really _are_ an adult! Oh where did George and I go so wrong? Oh alas, woe is me!" Fred said, grinning.

Harry smiled, obviously amused, and remembered something, "Oh yeah... I wanted to tell you, you know how I've been talking to the Slytherins more, right?"

"Yeah, it's the only reason we haven't pranked any of them," Fred said, serious now. "We respect your stance, you know that. Why? Did one of them do something?"

"No, but I don't want things to go back to how they were before when I leave," Harry said quietly. "The Founders, from what I saw, even though they had their disagreements, they usually got along. Salazar was able to work with Rowena, even though he _really_ didn't like Muggleborns. If their Founder had the ability to work despite his bias, I'm sure they can too, but they need incentive." Harry could see the older teen wanted to ask a question, but was waiting for Harry to explain. The boy, grateful, continued, "We can give them that incentive. I've seen what they're good at, what they want to do. If we play on those strengths, I'm sure they'll continue to talk and work with us."

Fred shrugged, "Okay. We'll do our best."

"Great." Harry looked at all of his work and research and figured he'd call it a night. "Later."

"Later!" Fred left the Common Room, going to the kitchens, while Harry went upstairs and slept.

The next few days and nights passed normally for him, the research being added quickly to his routine. Merlin, Rowena, and Godric had told him of some wards and other things that would help his school and orphanage--they thought it was a great idea, and Rowena in particular was proud that it was for _all_ magical beings, not just witches and wizards. She had been outvoted at Hogwarts when she had suggested it--Helga had been neutral, but both Salazar and Godric had been against it. Salazar because he didn't want creatures there, and Godric because he didn't think that they would properly be able to teach those beings.

Harry, however, had the advantage of knowing a few other magical beings. Trenag had already stated the goblins would help him with the finance work and things of that nature, and Donovitch had said the dwarves would be honored to be able to help him with the actual building. Dwarves, apparently, _really_ liked stuff like that. Harry was grateful, since he didn't know the first thing about building things. Cooking and cleaning, yes, but building? He had never even been allowed building blocks as a child, imagine _him_ building something. It'd probably fall apart in a few minutes!

Finally, though, after checking everything with Draco and getting approval (albeit a bit grudgingly) from the Ministry, Harry was ready to leave Hogwarts. It was time for him to move on, even though it was only halfway through his third year, Harry knew that much. That was why his stuff was already packed in his trunk and he was standing outside McGonagall's office, knocking.

She opened the door, and Harry saw Snape in there with her. The two had obviously been talking over tea, and Harry felt a little guilty for intruding, "Er, Professor McGonagall, may I speak with you a moment? Professor Snape, you don't have to leave." This was said because Harry had noticed the man had been about to stand up. The man remained sitting, and Harry entered the office completely, stepping in from the doorway. McGonagall shut the door behind him.

"What is it, Potter?" she inquired.

"I was wondering if you knew anything about homeschooling options," Harry said quietly.

"Homeschooling...?" McGonagall seemed a bit confused by the question.

Snape, however, was not, and so he answered, "A parent may homeschool his or her child or have a tutor, but there is only one magical school here, therefore there is only the curriculum that is set by Hogwarts. Fifth years have the Ministry standard of OWLs, and seventh years have NEWTs. Aside from that, there is no actual set standard."

Harry was surprised by that, but didn't comment on it. "Where could I find a tutor?"

Snape shrugged, "Put an advertisement out."

"Severus!" McGonagall glared, "He needs a tutor and you tell him to use _advertisements?! _He'll need to contact the Ministry or--"

The black haired man looked at her and sighed, a long, deep, _I'm surrounded by idiots_ sigh. "Minerva. How do we find teachers for Hogwarts?"

"Dumbledore usually puts something in the employment section of the Daily Pr—oh." She fell silent.

Snape continued, "Potter, you'll need to name the credentials and the like that you want in a tutor. I would recommend asking your teachers here what their curriculum for their students is."

_When he's not being a greasy overbearing git, his intellect is much easier to appreciate._ "Thank you, Professor. I hadn't even thought of that," Harry admitted.

Snape sipped at his tea and said dryly, "For some reason, I'm not surprised."

Harry glared at the man, while McGonagall coughed. Harry suspected she was trying to cover her amusement, and he shook his head. "Here, Potter," she said, tapping a large scroll of parchment with her wand. "That is my curriculum for Transfiguration. I'm _sure_ Professor Snape will do the same." She gave the younger teacher a meaningful look.

He looked back at her, "I will?"

"_Yes_." Her voice was dangerous, and Harry would have been quailing under the look she was giving Snape.

The man didn't even seem affected. "And why, pray tell, would I? Are you attempting to leave Hogwarts, Potter?"

_He's fast on the questions. No point in lying. _"Yes, sir, I am."

Snape raised an eyebrow, "And the Headmaster agreed?"

_What does Dumbledore have to do with this? _"I beg your pardon, sir, but I'm legally an adult."

"And also legally a student of Hogwarts… I dare say, what if your agreement to come here was the equivalent of a magical contract?"

Harry blanched—they couldn't do that… could they? "They can't—students can transfer—"

McGonagall looked at Snape and back at Harry, obviously thrown off by his comment, "Students do not _transfer_, Mr. Potter. We have not had such a case in _centuries_."

"Well, what happened in that case?" Harry demanded.

"The student transferred here because her father took a teaching position at the magical school where she was. They did not think it would be fair to allow her to be his student," Snape answered.

Harry gritted his teeth—he did _not_ come this far to fail now. "It can't be a magical contract."

Snape shrugged, "Go talk to the Headmaster."

"Oh I am." Harry turned to leave, his hand tight on the parchment McGonagall had given him with her curriculum.

"Oh, Potter?" Snape's voice said, in its usual sneer.

Harry repressed the urge to scream at the man and turned back around. "_Yes_, sir?" His irritation was obvious in his voice, and though he knew it wasn't Snape he was angry at, Harry was hard-pressed to keep his temper in control.

"You might want this." Snape held out a scroll of parchment, filled with writing as McGonagall's was, and Harry knew it was the curriculum for his potions classes.

Cheered almost immediately, and thankful, Harry took it, "Thank you, sir." With that and a nod to McGonagall, Harry left.

McGonagall glared at Snape, "You were goading him on purpose!"

Snape shrugged, "If he can't handle my comments, and he isn't angry at me, imagine how he will act towards the Headmaster. Since he kept control, however, I'm sure he'll manage."

"Couldn't you just have _told_ him to remain calm?" McGonagall demanded, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, not understanding her train of thought. "He'd just say he'd stay calm, even if he had no intention of doing so. However, he kept himself calm now, and later, when he is angry again, he'll most likely react the same way as he did in here. If he had begun shouting and rampaging, I would have told him that he wasn't safe to let leave."

McGonagall shook her head, thinking only one thought: _Slytherins_.

"To continue our previous discussion, before we were interrupted, for the final time, I do _not_ play chess. You attempting to trick me into it will not work."

She smiled, figuring that she would be able to sway him soon enough--after all, he was the only other adult in the school she _hadn't_ played against-- and the two began talking once more.

Harry, on the other hand, was heading towards the Headmaster's office, two scrolls in his hand. When he reached the goblin that guarded the Headmaster's office, he paused for a second. He didn't know the password... he could always guess, but... a thought had occurred to him. "Open up."

Immediately, the goblin moved and Harry walked up the staircase and, after a polite knock on the door, opened it. Dumbledore looked up, blue eyes twinkling, "Good afternoon, Harry."

"Good afternoon, sir."

"What brings you to my office?" Dumbledore inquired, having an idea as to why but hoping he was wrong.

Figuring there'd be no point in making small talk, Harry said, "I'm transferring out of Hogwarts."

"Of course, after the year is over--"

"I'm leaving _now_," Harry specified.

Dumbledore chuckled, "Harry, you can't leave now. You have your third year to finish and with Sirius Black loose--"

"Begging pardon, sir, but that's _my_ decision, not yours, to make."

"You have an agreement to come here," Dumbledore said, quite calmly. "When a student agrees to come here, a pact is formed."

Harry was about to start ranting, but he forced himself to stay calm. There was a way around this, he _knew_ there was. And, after a few moments, he had it. "A pact is formed, you said. How? Only adults can legally make contracts like that."

"Their guardians..." Dumbledore said, not seeing where Harry was going with this.

The boy just smiled, "The Dursleys _were_ my guardians. They aren't anymore. I haven't made a pact with the school, and so I don't have to stay here. And if it'd be a pact, would you be the one enforcing it?"

"It is one of the headmaster duties," Dumbledore said, wondering what the boy was getting at.

"But I'm not enforcing it," Harry said softly, eyes locked with the older man's.

For the first time, Dumbledore looked irritated, "You are not the Headmaster, Mr. Potter."

"Oh really? I think there are some who might disagree with you," Harry retorted, keeping himself calm. "But I'm not getting into all of that. What I'm saying is that you can't hold me here because of some pact that I didn't make and that you can't enforce."

Dumbledore smiled, "I think we'll see who can enforce things if you try transferring. What school will take you?"

"Homeschooling," Harry said, and for the second time, irritation was on the man's face.

He didn't look happy at the fact that Harry had, apparently, found solutions around him. "I thought you enjoyed being here? Your friends, lessons... why the sudden change?"

"Because Hogwarts is not my optimal learning environment," Harry said, standing. "I'm still angry at you, sir. You should be glad that I'm leaving--any challenge that I present to your authority is gone with me."

"You're not a challenge to my authority Harry," Dumbledore said softly, staring at the boy. "If you remember, I was one of the ones that allowed your status to be changed."

"You didn't have a say on that, sir. That was the law, due to what my magical guardian decided." Harry decided to go for broke, seeing the man getting ready to speak again, "Look, sir. I don't want us to be enemies. I just want to get out of here and live my life. I'm not you, I'm not going to meddle around with other people's lives. I'm going to see what I want or what needs to be done, and I'm going to do it. So either help me or let me be." Harry stood up and left, knowing that even if his being a student was considered a contract, he had the authority to overcome it.

Dumbledore stared at the door for a long time, his face a blank slate to all of the portraits that were watching him closely. The man said nothing, going back to his paperwork.

Harry, meanwhile, had gone to Gryffindor Tower and looked at his trunk—everything that he had was in there, except for Hedwig. He muttered the featherlight charm and walked to the Owlery, bringing his trunk with him. "Ready to go?" He asked his owl, petting her as she gently nipped his finger. She hooted and jumped on his shoulder. Harry smiled and took out Merlin's Glass.

He had looked over his estates for a long time before deciding on a place to live. It was a small bungalow that was on a beach, on an island off the coast of Scotland. It was near a small village of magical creatures, and Harry had picked it due to its many defenses and wards, along with the fact that it was far enough away for him to be left alone and close enough that he could be back quickly if needed. Activating the Glass with a Word of Power, Harry tugged at the frame until it was large enough for him to get through, then stepped through, the Glass closing behind him.

The bungalow was furnished simply, and a few cleaning spells made it habitable. Harry took out the things from his trunk and, after putting away the things in it, realized how little he really had. The bungalow was furnished, but it didn't _feel_ like... well, it didn't look like anyone really lived there. Harry sighed, wondering how to do that. He had filled a lot of shelves with books and the like, making a medium-sized room with a desk and shelves into a little office-library room. But aside from that and a small wardrobe in the room that he had picked for his bedroom...

"I had a cupboard for ten years, a room for two summers, and a dorm bed for two years. What do I know about decorating a house?" Harry sighed, looking around the small clean place. He looked in the kitchen and shook his head—he really shouldn't have been surprised. It was empty. Nothing to eat or drink was in the place.

Well, time for the village to see the new person, he supposed. He hoped they had food... Harry left, locking the door behind him and following the small path to the village, breathing in deeply. Salt, air... _freedom_.

He walked for a few minutes and stopped on the top of a hill, gazing at the village. It was a little postcard village. Houses and shops, tidy and prim, with their colors faded by sea salt and the sun, cobblestone streets that were curvy and whistle-clean as they climbed the hilly terrain or arrowed towards the docks. Gardens were very well tended, as if weeds were illegal, dogs barking behind picket fences, children of all kinds playing. The docks were full of boats and beings tending them, and even from his place Harry could smell fish. There were boats all along the bay, and a little sickle slash of sand--a small beach where beings were on towels or swimming despite the cold. Harry had never been to a beach, and he smiled at the fact that he lived near one.

Main Street, as he read on a small sign, was all across the bottom of the hill. Shops and restaurants and other island businesses lined it. Perhaps he'd stop at a restaurant and then the market... he blinked, seeing a large building. Well, it wasn't _large_ per say, it was just larger than the other buildings, and made out of stone. It looked very... different, like a place where people would stay at for vacation or a honeymoon. The Draiken Inn--an interesting name. He looked around once more and began walking, seeing crafts shops, gifts shops, and even an ice cream shop. Harry couldn't help but watch a family of four laughing and spooning up different toppings for their ice cream.

Were the Dursleys like that when he wasn't there? Probably. Harry's heart ached for Rowena and the others at that moment and he decided to keep walking before he began moping about everything he didn't have... _Besides, I can't complain. At least I had them for a little while..._ Harry nodded to himself at the thought. It was better to remember what he did have and what he was going to do--worry about the present and the future, instead of crying over things he couldn't--well, _wouldn't_--change.

Harry stopped at the bookstore, making him smile. He had pushed past that block in his head, remembered the boy he had been before Hogwarts. And that boy had loved reading, had been the best student in the class so that the Dursleys wouldn't have any excuses to yell at him even more. And now the young teen that he was had picked up that love of reading once more. Cross Cafe. Well... that seemed perfect. He'd get a book and read over a nice warm drink. He stepped, the air smelling like flowers and spices and instrumental music. Books of all shapes, sizes, and colors were everwhere, and the counter was nice, a cherry wood cabinet carved with various designs that Harry couldn't recognize.

A woman with pale, pale skin and raven black hair sat on a stool behind the cabinet, flipping through a book. She looked up and, upon seeing Harry, adjusted her reading glasses. "Good morning," she said, giving him an odd look but treating him as a customer anyway, "May I help you?"

"Er... I'm just going to look around, if that's okay?"

The woman nodded, "Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything."

Harry wandered, seeing different books and different trinkets. He followed the steps to find more books and the cafe. He blinked at the selection but said nothing--it _was_ an island full of magical beings.

The woman behind the counter stared at him, as the woman downstairs had--were they twins? They looked pretty much identical... Harry quietly ordered some tea and found a book that seemed interesting--_A History of Cafell Isle_--and began reading it. The woman brought him the tea and gazed at him for a bit before, after looking around the empty area, inquired, "I'm sorry, but I have to ask... how did you get here? You're... human, aren't you?"

"I am," Harry said quietly. "I live in the bungalow a bit past the village."

The woman smiled, revealing two large fangs. _Vampire_, Harry thought to himself, saying nothing about it. She wasn't attacking him, she was thinking, obviously amused. "Only the Lord of Caf..." she trailed off, staring at him now. "You're not just a human, are you... you're a wizard. You're..." she continued to stare and her eyes widened in disbelief. _"You're_ Lord Wyllt?!"

_Am I famous or something?_ "Yeah... just Harry, please?" Harry asked. He was uncomfortable with titles.

The woman nodded, staring, "I'm Delilah Hawthorne, it's an honor to meet you, sir. I've heard about you from the dwarves and goblins--I know other beings were thinking of asking you for help, and... just... wow. You really are all that they've said, even though you're just a kid."

Harry blushed, unsure of what to say, but another customer entered and Delilah left, "Bye Harry, enjoy!" She went to take the newcomer's order and Harry finished his tea, going downstairs and buying the book. He went to the Market, told them where he lived since they delivered, and they, like Delilah, were obviously surprised, but they disguised it well.

After his identity was known, Harry had visitors—elves, goblins, dwarves, half-giants, vampires, creatures he couldn't identify... all sorts of beings visited him over the next few days, helping him settle in, talking to him, showing him around, giving him "housewarming" gifts like books that taught older arts of magic, or food, or decorations.

Harry still had Merlin's Glass, and spoke to others through it. Sirius Black still hadn't been found, the school was still fine, and the like. He was busying himself with other things, such as starting the school. _Cafell Academy_, something simple, would be the name, and the people on the island were eager to help with it. Harry had even met Donovitch, finally, in person. The dwarf had a long white beard, came up to Harry's waist, and was very very stocky.

The school was coming along nicely. Harry had gotten approval from the Ministry of Magic to build it, along with the orphange—the same idea of naming it after the island it would be on.

Time passed quickly, with Harry's days being so full. Despite his being only thirteen, he was treated as the young heir that he was. He spent a lot of time with various beings, honing his skills and studying. His Hogwarts teachers sent him assignments and grades for the ones he sent them. Harry hadn't found a tutor yet, despite the fact that a few months had passed, but he didn't really care—he was too busy, and he figured he'd learn as he moved along.

At the moment, he was talking to Draco via Merlin's Glass. "You want it to be called the _Silver and Gold Law Firm?"_ Harry stared at the other boy. "And you claim _I_ have no taste."

"Well excuse me for being logical, Potter. It's not as if the law firm is going to be wherever you are. It's called _magic, _we can have businesses that are in other places without fear." Draco replied, looking at Harry as if the other boy were an idiot.

Harry was relieved. Some things never changed—Rowena's love for him, the Slytherins thinking he was an idiot, the sky being blue...

"We'll name it that then," Harry said, shrugging, "but if there are any smart comments about it, I'm pointing them towards you."

Draco smirked then said, "Oh! You haven't heard, have you?"

"Hm?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"They found Sirius Black. He was here, at Hogwarts. Apparently Lupin knew him—oh, Lupin's a werewolf, did you know that?" At the shaking of Harry's head, the other boy continued, "Apparently... well, apparently Black was innocent."

"Innocent." Harry repeated, his voice deadpan.

Draco nodded, the look on his face a very serious one, "Yes... and he's asking about you. Apparently, he was supposed to be your guardian if something happened."

"I had a guardian," Harry said quietly. "And I have my freedom because of it."

"Well, the thing is, your _parents_ assigned him to you. And if what you've said before is true, Dumbledore is going to be after you again. You're a danger."

"To?" Harry asked, amused.

"Are you really that dense, Potter? You're a threat to the status quo. You're befriending creatures, changing things... and you _did_ put a cap on his salary. Apparently he's still not happy about it."

Harry just smiled while Draco rolled his eyes. "What are the odds of Black being able to get custody of me?"

"Well, it should be easy—over a decade in Azkaban is more than enough for you to state that you don't think he'd be a stable guardian..." Draco pondered this and murmured, "Again, though, it depends on how much he's going to fight it. Lupin's a lot of things, but he's not stupid. I wouldn't put it past him to be helping Black, and even though Black may be a bit insane, Lupin might know a bit about law."

_Yes... Lupin might. And he's a werewolf, so bringing that up would be taking steps back, not forward. Darn it._ Harry raked his hair back, "It's all right. I'll figure out something."

Draco nodded and said, "Also, Millicent and Pansy are _quite_ eager to see you again."

Harry groaned, "What am I, their mannequin?"

"It seems that way. Good thing too. You actually look presentable after they fix you up," Draco said drily. "Anyway, I have to go. Later Potter."

"Goodbye, Draco." Harry said quietly as the other boy vanished. The glass buzzed, revealing the twins.

"Harry did you hear--"

"--about Sirius Black--"

"--he's innocent!" both twins finished.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I heard." He barely made sense of the immediate wave of questions and the like the twins had, answering them easily.

To be honest, he still didn't really know what he was doing or why he was so calm. Probably because he was pretty sure Rowena would have told him that panicking solved nothing and remaining calm allowed him to think clearly. The Ministry would want to make things up to Sirius Black, of course, but Harry was legally an adult and had almost finished the orphanage and school, and he was on excellent terms with the nonhumans. His future law-partner seemed to have developed a grudging respect and things were going well, finally.

Harry wasn't going to let that go. He would fight it tooth and nail... and if they didn't...

He understood about responsibility, but if they wouldn't let him live up to it, then Harry was going to go back where he belonged, go back to Rowena and Godric and Merlin. He knew that the others would understand, and move on. Harry had things to do without worrying about people trying to ruin everything he had worked for, but he'd be fair. He'd give them their chance.

It wasn't surprising, then, at least to Harry, on the first day of summer that he received a summon to the Ministry regarding his status.

Once more, Harry was standing in front of the Wizengomet, nicely fixed up (ah the few benefits of being the human mannequin), but this time there was another man standing nearby—this man had to be Sirius Black. Harry looked at him, keeping his face a blank slate, and wondered what was going to happen now.

**A/N: Please pardon any mistakes you see in this, or any vague details--my proofreader is temporarily on vacation. However, I felt guilty for having taken so long to update already, so I figured a few small things would be okay. If you feel otherwise, let me know! Anyway, hope you like!  
**


	23. Chapter 23

**23.**

Harry stared at the man for a few moments and returned his gaze to the Wizengamot. The same as before, and he waited. The beginning procedures passed and then Dumbledore asked Sirius, "Mr. Black, you claim to have custody of Harry James Potter?"

"Wyllt," Harry interrupted quietly, making everyone in the room look at him.

"I'm sorry?" Dumbledore asked, peering at the boy.

Harry looked up, emerald green eyes defiant as he quickly figured out a loophole in the argument before it even began. "You said Harry James Potter. You left out Wyllt. My name is Harry James Potter-Wyllt, sir. It's hyphenated. If you want to claim that I'm under Mr. Black's care, perhaps you should specify the right _person_. Harry James Potter is not an independent adult. Harry James Potter-Wyllt is."

Sirius looked at Harry and back at Dumbledore, "Nobody told me Harry was an independent adult." He looked confused and angry.

Harry looked at him and spoke directly to him, "They didn't?"

"No. They said you had gone missing. Letters I sent to you returned, and nobody could could in touch with you via floo powder," Sirius said, thinking. "But if you changed your last name, that'd account for it." Sirius looked at Lupin, who was obviously pondering this situation.

"I didn't know you had changed your surname," Lupin murmured. "Nobody informed us."

Harry looked at the Wizengamot, as did Sirius, both obviously irritated. "So my godson's independent and you drag him back here for this? Why didn't anyone just tell me?"

"I'm curious about that myself," Harry said, raising an eyebrow and looking right at Dumbledore.

"The Wizengamot is not responsible--" Dumbledore began.

Sirius exploded, "That's bull and you know it! Your Wizengamot damned me for years to rot without a trial, you'd think you'd learn common sense by now! 'Oh Mr. Black, Harry's a legal adult, no need for court, here's how to get in touch with him.' That's it! Took me all of five seconds to say!"

The members of the Wizengamot began murmuring to each other, obviously uncomfortable with the statement. Harry, recognizing an ally when he saw one, said, "Look, for any questions in the future, just tell them, all right? Come on, Mr. Black, let's grab something to eat."

"Way ahead of you. Come on Remus." The three left the session, Sirius fuming and ranting about the idiots in the Ministry and the Wizengamot the entire time as they went to a small restaurant. Harry repressed his amusement and shared looks with Lupin. Who was the young one here?

They were partway through their meal when a Ministry wizard entered the restaurant, dressed in a Muggle suit. "I'm sorry to intrude, sirs," he said. "Lord Wyllt, the plans you have drawn up seem feasible and I understand you've begun to build the structures?"

"I have," Harry said. "Has anything changed?"

"No sir," the Ministry wizard said. "Will you be opening this September, as scheduled?"

"Yes," Harry said, not seeing Sirius and Lupin staring at him. The way he looked, the way he sat... this wasn't the Harry Potter they expected. This wasn't the son of James and Lily, the little baby who would giggle and coo and laugh and play. This was a young man, older than his years and... he didn't give off the aura of a boy. He gave off the aura of a... well, of every expectation people had of a Lord. Someone to look up to, who had answers and solved problems, who fought for his people and himself...

Lupin looked at Harry—really _looked_, forcing himself to see past the few times he had had the boy in class, forcing himself to see past the fact that he was the son of James and Lily. And for the first time, Lupin realized that this young man... was no longer that person. Oh, _biologically_ he was their son , and perhaps his ardent attitude in helping those in need came from them, but other than that, he was... well, he was Wyllt. Lord Wyllt was what people called him, and Lupin was beginning to see why. He looked at Sirius and was surprised—the black-haired man seemed to have already moved on... having already accepted the fact that Harry was his own person, not a clone of their friends.

It surprised Lupin, that sometimes Sirius could be worlds wiser than he.

"Are they giving you trouble?" Sirius asked Harry when the Ministry wizard left. "The Ministry's keen to be on my good side after what happened. I can twist it."

Harry smirked, "You know, I want to be proud and say I can handle it, but honestly, any help I can get, I'll take. What do you have in mind?"

"I'll speak out in an interview or something, explain how proud I am..." the two began making plans about what to do, as if they had known each other for ages.

_Oh dear, it's infected both of them!_ Lupin stared at Sirius—of all the things he expected, Sirius _helping_ Harry twist things like this? What was going on? Was he the only one _not_ in on whatever Harry was planning? What _was_ Harry up to? Lupin had heard the whispers among the nonhumans, about the Lord Wyllt changing things. He had heard the whispers from the Ministry about Wyllt interfering, _changing_ things, and some people liked it, others didn't, of course.

"I'll see you later, then, Sirius. Thanks." Harry stood up, and the two shook hands.

"Any time. If I had been here..." The man gritted his teeth and let out a low growl, "I'm impulsive and an idiot, I know, and I'm sorry you suffered because of it."

_Was this the same Sirius Black?_ Lupin stared in disbelief at his friend.

"That was the past," Harry said quietly. "We need to worry about the present and the future."

"Then I'll talk to you later. Ready to go, Moony?" Sirius looked at his friend.

"Y-yeah..." he stood up and watched Harry go, and looked at Sirius, who looked back at his friend.

"Everything all right, Remus?" Sirius inquired, seeing the other man staring at him.

Lupin slowly nodded and finally said, "You're being awfully... calm about all of this."

Sirius laughed, not one of amusement though, and said, "I want to rip apart everyone and everything that's ever hurt my godson. I want to scream, rant, and rage at the Ministry... you can't imagine how I feel, because I can't even describe it. But when I followed my impulses last time, I ended up in Azkaban, Harry ended up with relatives who hate him and being taken from guardians that loved him. He ended up with so much on his shoulders and I was treated worse than something people scrape off their shoes. So yes, I'm coping better than you thought, because giving into my impulses gave me nothing but grief and if learning a tiny bit of patience and waiting allow that to never happen again, then I'll learn it." Sirius looked at Lupin, "Let's go. You have Hogwarts to get back to and I've got things to get done before tomorrow."

Harry was thinking along the same lines as Sirius, working as frantically as ever. He had put out advertisements not only for a tutor, but for teachers, for wardens and groundskeepers and everything that he would need. With the Ministry wanting to keep Sirius happy, the man's input would be good, but Harry wanted advice from... well, he wanted advice from someone who had been doing the job for a while, in the modern times.

"Minerva McGonagall," he said to Merlin's Glass. Again, he saw her and Snape, talking—arguing? About chess? Harry shook his head, wondering if he'd ever understand those two, "Um, Professors?"

The two looked over and saw an image of Harry, both thrown off by it but not showing their confusion. Snape glanced at McGonagall, "I'll take my leave, then, Minerva."

"No!" Harry said, quickly, making both of them look. "Please, Professor, don't. I'd like both of your opinions."

The two shared looks and waited for Harry to speak. So the boy told them of his worries, of his concerns and how he needed advice. The two just sat and _listened. _Finally, Harry finished, breathing heavily as he did so.

McGonagall said quietly, "Teachers are always available—I'm sure many students who graduated recently will reply to you soon, if you're willing to accept new people and help them." She smiled, "I can give you a few names of former students who were good at explaining different subjects to others."

"You might also want to look at the first year cirriculum here," Snape murmured, "And base things off of that and off of Muggle primary schools—they've already accomplished teaching young children the basics. Many times students here are at a loss when trying to think of a good cover or blend in—teach both worlds to them."

"Where would I find this information?" Harry inquired.

"Libraries, different places. You went to a Muggle primary school, didn't you?" Snape smirked and Harry forced himself to not roll his eyes.

Harry listened to their advice, glad of it, and he took down the names that they recommended for him. After thanking both of them, he let them go back to their talking. He wanted to talk to Tobias or someone, but he knew that he had to do other things, like find a library to get a computer and look up information about schooling.

The next few weeks flew by, but Harry had gotten responses to his job offers, had gotten the building structures for the orphanage and school set up, and had managed to talk to Tobias, who promised to pass his greetings to Helena and Edward.

Sirius had helped too, supporting Harry vocally and actively challenging the "traditionalists," as he had dubbed them. Harry was glad—Sirius had enough pent-up energy to go after them. The Wizengamot did _not_ like the man, the boy was sure, but he didn't care. Anyone who went after Harry for breaking "centuries of custom," was shamed into ridicule. Sirius had the family history to back him up and he had reasoning behind it as well. Added to the fact that many of the younger-Slytherins had quietly backed Harry up led to silence from most of the "traditionalists."

Harry knew he couldn't go back, he could only go forward. And move he did, getting information about children who were in orphanages or with relatives that had magic, about squibs and magical creatures... everything that the Ministry would know and have access to. It was interesting how fast "Lord Wyllt" could change things when the non-humans threw their support behind him.

The twins had written to him as well, and Harry finally had a chance to reply, stating how busy he had been and the like. Apparently, Ron and Hermione had had a falling out, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care too much. People told him he was working himself too hard, but Harry knew he only had a little bit of time.

But finally, as summer came to an end, he was ready. Cafell Orphanage and Cafell Academy were both standing. Children already were at the orphanage, infants and young children that Harry couldn't believe would be abandoned. The Academy had many students registered, including non-humans and Muggleborns.

"So ye art ready?" Rowena asked him through the glass as September first approached.

Harry nodded, dressed nicely, "Yeah, I'm ready. I'm Lord Wyllt after all." They both chuckled at the title and he stood, nervous. "I want it to last as long as Hogwarts," Harry admitted to her.

"I do not," she said quietly. As Harry gaped, she smiled and said, "I want it to last _longer_."

Harry grinned, "No reason why they can't both survive." He blew her a kiss, "Take care Rowena."

"And ye as well, my son." The two left and Harry went to greet his students, along with the members of the faculty. He was pleased—they respected him despite the fact that they were all older than him.

Months went by, Harry busy with headmaster duties at _his_ school, along with being taught by a tutor he had found from Greece. He smiled as he completed his paperwork; his tutor was still alive and kicking, despite hemlock rumors to the contrary.

He had his school and orphanage to run and his own lessons to complete. Sirius handled the Ministry, usually, and anyone else who tried to bother Harry, Lupin helping the man. The twins handled most of the complaints from Hogwarts students and others stupid enough to say things in front of them. McGonagall and Snape helped Harry too, though Snape would never admit it, which amused the boy. The two had, nicely, told Dumbledore to back off after he had bothered Harry through the fireplace for the umpteenth time.

Everything was going well, and there was going to be a Halloween party for the children and their families. Harry stood up to go to it, decked out in his costume of Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, when the fireplace lit up, causing him to pause and turn.

"Harry Potter?" A man—he recognized Ludo Bagman from the Ministry—was staring at him. A group of people, some Harry had never seen before, others that he had, staring at him.

"Yes?" Harry asked, obviously thrown off by this.

McGonagall and Snape looked at him, "Did you put your name into the Goblet, Potter?" Snape snapped.

"Into the _what_?" Harry looked at the group of adults, "What are you talking about?"

At the looks exchanged by all of the adults, Harry knew he wasn't going to like whatever they were going to tell him. And for some reason, he knew it was going to drastically affect his life. And Harry knew that all he could do was wait for however long it would take, test his newfound patience, and see what this new arc of his life was going to bring.

**A/N: The tag doesn't lie, story's complete. As for the open-endedness... well, I'll let you good folks decide if I write a follow-up ;)  
Later and thanks for reading and reviewing!**


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